Disclaimer: As always, the Bee has no claim or ownership of these characters
or the concept of Dancing With The Stars. However, the plots and the words
around them are mine. Thou shalt not steal.
Warnings: Bad language, pre slash. That's right, no actual sex.
Summary: The Bee has been hooked on Dancing With The Stars and this is the result.
Summary: The boys have been captured by demons who watch far too much
television and freedom comes at a cost. Can they pay it?
Second Warning: This story was written in about 2 hours with the idea of posting
it to Fall For S/X but I felt it was not up to that quality. So, it is not Shakespeare.
Give me a break.
As always, thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banners and the valued friendship.
Xander groaned and rolled over to rest his cheek on the cool cement floor. He didn't
need to feel around on the back of his head to know there was a goose egg the size of a
baseball raised on his skull. Before trying to open his eyes, he decided to take a
minute and see if he was totally brain damaged or if he could rouse enough neurons
in his memory bank to make a withdrawal of recent events. In other words, what the fuck
happened this time and how the fuck long was he unconscious?
The last thing he remembered was walking home from movie night at Buffy's. He also
recalled that the evening's entertainment had been, over his loud objections, a replay
of Hugh Grant in Notting Hill. Sheesh. He was closet gay and even he couldn't stomach
So, anyway, there he was, strolling along minding his own fucking business when, apparently,
WHAMO. Snookered from behind. And not in the way the latest issue of "Bubble
Butts" magazine said was oddles and oodles of good.
"Well, well. Look who is finally rejoining the real world. 'bout bloody time, Mate."
Xander turned his head in the other direction and squinted one eye open. As expected
the act sent waves of stomach churning pain zinging throughout his prone body.
"Spike. I should have known. What the fuck did you do to me, Spike? And what's
with the caveman routine? An inscribed, prose filled invitation would have been just
"WHAT? Well, I bloody like that, NOT! I'll have you know that I have nothing to do
with this little situation. In fact, you happen to be the resident demon magnet. Clearly
this is all your fault and I have just been sucked in as the innocent bystander."
Spike's high octane denial's had the ring of bullshit to them, but at the same time, Xander
got the impression that there was a crumb of truth sloshing about in there somewhere.
Gingerly, he rolled over on his side and he experimentally opened his eyes. Once the
wave of agony ebbed back, his vision cleared and he took stock of the manure pile he
found himself in this time.
Apparently he and Spike were alone. They were in a small stone room that resembled
a dungeon. The walls were damp grey and the floor was bare. All in all, things did not look
good. Spike was sitting with his back to the wall, his feet flat on the floor with his knees
bent and the patented vampire smirk firmly in place. For Xander, a fairly normal
situation. Slowly and carefully, he pulled himself up onto his butt and he rubbed the
sensitive camel hump on his head.
"So if you didn't do this, who did and where are we. Oh, and one more question, what
the fuck do they want?"
Spike stared at the boy and seemed to consider him before answering.
"The who is simple. We were both snatched about an hour ago off the street by a couple
Bor-E-anus demons. I've run into them before and believe me, they are nothing to mess with.
They are big, goofy, and their whole reason for being is to find different ways to entertain
themselves. I'm not sure where we are but as for the what they want part, it was all
explained to me while you snoozed and I can guarantee, you ain't gonna like it."
Xander wanted to be stunned and shocked, unfortunately he had found himself in just this
type of situation often enough that going through a bout of hysterics would be redundant.
"Yeah, o.k, so what do they want us to do to entertain them? Sing? Juggle? Do magic
tricks? Cause I gotta confess, Spike, I'm not that talented."
Spike's eyes darted away. This was the hard part. Telling the boy what they had to do
to save their lives and earn their release was going to sent him into fits of rage and
angry refusals. Unfortunately, there was no other way. Fucking Bor-E-anus could not
be reasoned with.
"See, the thing is, Pet, these demons spend all day watching the telly and sometimes they
get hooked on a program and they force their victims to act it out. That's what they want
Xander's heart rate kicked up a notch and his breathing escalated. He began to perspire as
his brain flipped through the pages of a mental TV Guide. 'Oh, holy fuck' He thought.
It could be anything.
"Shit, Spike, what is it? Survivor? CSI? Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader? Cause
frankly, Spike, I'm not. Is it Lost? Sweet Jesus, please tell me is isn't Lost, cause I still
can't figure that fucking thing out. I mean what the fuck was with the polar bears
and is Juliet really dead?"
Spike dropped his head into his hands as Xander continued to ramble like an imbecile. They
were fucked. There was no way they were going to get out of this one. Finally, he had
to cut him off.
"XANDER! Shit, shut the fuck up. The show they are into right now is Dancing With
The Stars. We have to dance."
Xander grinned. This was going to be a piece of cake. He loved to dance. He had
spent countless weekends at the Bronze dancing his little heart out. He could spin, twirl,
flail and flop better than anyone there. In fact people often stood back to gape and watch
the amazement that was Xander Harris on a dance floor.
"Hey, cool. No problemo. Kick up the music and I'll have us outta here in no time."
Spike sneered with disdain.
"Right. I've seen that bizarre arm thing you do and believe me, that wouldn't buy our way
out of a paper sack. Besides, haven't you ever seen the show? It doesn't fucking work
that way. They give us the name of a dance and a room to practice in. Then later on,
we perform, together, and they judge us. Three judges, three scores. If we can earn
a 20 or higher, we can go. If not, we are sent back to the practice room with another
dance and we try again. Are you starting to get the glitch here, Pet? TOGETHER. We
have to dance together."
Xander slowly rose to his feet. The pain in the back of his head was all but forgotten as
a mental picture of him and the most handsome, sexy vampire in the universe formed in
his wayward brain. They were holding each other tight and gliding around the dance floor.
Just the three of them. Spike, Xander, and little Xan. The cock in his pants that had,
more than once spoken to him about his attraction to the evil blond.
Oh, this was not good.
"Um, look, Spike, I don't think......"
"Wha? I'm not good enough to dance with? You don't think we can do it? Trust me, Pet,
I don't fancy this anymore than you do, but it is the only way and the longer you stand there
and whine, the longer this is going to take. Now, the practice room is next door and the
first card they gave me says, 'waltz'. Lucky for you, Dru taught me years ago so, we
slip over there, I teach you to dance and bing, bam ,boom, we are out the front door in time
for happy hour at Willy's."
Xander blinked. He looked at the small recipe card in Spike's hand and his eyes darted
back and forth between the sparkling blue eyes and the suggestive swishing of the vampire's
hips. Immediately, Xander spun around and began beating his fist on the stone walls, screaming.
"Let me out. Let me out. Let me out. Let me out."
Spike sighed. He grabbed the boy by the back of the neck of his t-shirt and he dragged him
away toward the small entrance way to the adjoining room. Xander 'acked' and choked
as he was physically pulled backward, stumbling and clutching at his throat. Before the lack of
oxygen again knocked him unconscious, he was released with a shove. Looking around, he could
see that they were in a square room with mirrors lining the walls. Angrily, he rubbed the red
mark on his neck.
"God damn you Spike! That fucking hurt! Don't you ever.........Hey, looky there. I can see
you in the mirrors. You are still a vampire aren't you?"
In response, Spike shifted into vampire face and snapped his fangs menacingly in Xander's
direction. He was startled when a wave of arousal and pheromones poured from the
boy and washed over him. When Xander's face turned beet red and he looked away, Spike
just knew this whole situation had taken a turn for the interesting and his features softened
back to human. Before he could torture the boy with the new information, his eye picked
up his reflection in the magic glass and his mouth fell open. He tenuously crept forward.
He hadn't seen himself in over 100 years. HE WAS FUCKING GEORGOUS!!!
Xander crossed his arms and slumped back against the wall. He knew this might take a
while. Spike leaned close to stare at himself in the magically spelled mirrors. It was
wonderful!! He turned to walk away then stopped and his head snapped around to see
how his arse looked from behind. It was better than he had imagined. He wiggled his
butt. He leapt in the air, spun around and pointed his finger like a gun. His reflection
did the same. Xander feared, at this rate, there would be here till he was old and grey.
"The waltz, Spike! The fucking waltz!!"