Okay, you are evil and I have no willpower. I mean, I'm not doing this. Really. I'm already asleep in bed.

&&&

When the front door opened, Casey was surprised to see himself look so... Well, first of all, he was pretty surprised to see himself. He'd always thought he was, you know, taller than that. And he'd always thought Dana was just teasing him about the blockhead thing.

Once he got over the shape of his head, he looked at the overall picture, and was surprised to see himself look so Danny-like. Danny had dressed in the jeans he'd meant to throw out last summer. Somehow, he'd washed them and they'd shrunk to an almost uncomfortable size. Danny was wearing them as if it was... decent to leave so little to the imagination.

Danny was also wearing a white t-shirt with a royal blue shirt hanging open over the top. It was a shirt that Casey had liked in the store, but it always seemed a little too bold to actually wear. His hair was also sticking up messily. Dan would probably call it a just-fucked look. It kind of worked.

Danny blinked at him. Well, Casey's body blinked at him, and Casey was going to have to think of it as Danny, or he was going to give himself a migraine. "Flannel? That's got to be the only flannel shirt I own. How the hell did you find it?"

Casey shrugged, but didn't offer to take the large shirt off. "I like flannel."

"Well, at least pull those sleeves up. They're ridiculously long."

Casey shrugged and rolled the sleeves over. "So what do we do?"

Dan shrugged, and Casey watched his own face form into a frown. It was like watching yourself on camera, except... stranger. "I don't know."

"You're not imagining this?" Casey asked with a vague hope.

Dan made an expression that was a half-frown and half-sneer. "No."

"And you're not in any pain?"

Dan buried his head in his hands. "You're not going to tell me about some embarrassing personal condition, are you?"

Casey snorted. "No."

"Good."

"So."

"So."

"I guess we go to work," Casey offered.

Dan shrugged. "Guess so." They stood up, but Dan walked over to the bathroom.

Casey followed. "What?"

"Checking your hair," Dan replied, staring critically in the mirror. "Seriously, Casey, how the hell do you manage this?"

Casey blinked. "I wash it. It dries naturally. Alison styles it."

"Well, that explains your hair in the mornings," Dan said, still staring at their skewed reflections.

Danny's-face-in-the-mirror scowled. "I don't have bad hair."

"Not today," Danny replied with a grin. "But you have no idea how much effort I put into making it look this good."

"It does look good, Danny."

Danny grinned, a wide smile of square white teeth. "I know."

&&&