Title: Murder on the dance floor 1

Author: Enide Dear

Pairing: RufusxCissney (wtf, het?! I do this only for you, Mommy Silver…), implied RenoxRude (because it wouldn't be me if there were no yaoi)

Rating: worksafe, some hanky-panky, no spanky

Summary: For MommySilver who won the 41 500 kiriban and wanted Rufus, Cissney and Ballroom dancing. Sorry it's so long, as always Reno and Rude tried to kidnap the fic.

**

"Aw, was' wrong Cissney –love?" An extremely insincerely smiling Reno flopped down on the chair next to Cissney even as Rude took a more sedately seat opposite her. As by magic, the employer's lounge was drained of gossiping desk workers; nothing emptied a room as quickly as a gathering of Turks.

Scowling at him, Cissney took refuge behind her coffee mug.

"None of your business, Reno." She muttered testily.

"I'm making it my business. You're the bait in our little team work group. Can't have you frowning like that or people will realize how dangerous you really are."

"You are just so *concerned* and *sweet* aren't you, Reno?" She hissed at him, raising the mug threateningly.

"What's really wrong, Cissney?" Rude's big hand closed almost gently around both hers and the mug and putting them back down on the table.

"Yeah, it ain't your time in the month yet for almost two weeks." Reno lit a cig and leaned back on the chair, meeting both their stares. "What? I notice these things, you know. Survival instinct and all."

"The vice president wants me to enter the Midgard Ballroom Dancing contest this weekend," Cissney decided to give up on Reno and sighed as she answered Rude's question.

"Rufus? Why would he want that?" Reno frowned. "I mean, I know he likes the stuff and he's good at it apparently, but why you?"

Cissney cleared her throat a bit embarrassed.

"I might have told him that I was one of the best dancers in Midgard."

"And he just bought that?" Reno pressed, grinning.

"Well, no, but some well-forged dancing diplomas and cheap trophies bought in the slums convinced him." Cissney had the decency to blush.

"Ha! You're in deep shit now, babe!" Reno sniggered. "Why'd you go and spread a lie like that for – to the president's son and all?"

"Stop needling her," Rude punched him on the shoulder – rather hard. "You know she's had a crush on him since forever."

"You guys are seriously not helping." Trying for haughty but only managing sulky, Cissney rose to leave. "Go play with your rods somewhere."

"Already did, and even ours need reloading once in a while." Reno grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down on the chair. "C'mon, we're trying to help you. Seriously."

"You can start by telling me you've washed that hand!" She shook him off, but relented. "The problem is, I can dance, but nowhere near well enough for a contest."

"And Rufus is very competitive. He'll expect you to win." Rude nodded.

"And if you don't, well there goes your chances of tongue spelunking down the shitter." Reno added, once more ignoring the murderous glance. "Right, so the way I see it, you can do this three ways. You can admit to your crush that you lied, or you can train your perky little ass off until Saturday and still probably loose, making an ass out of both you and him. Or…"

"Or?" Cissney demanded. Crude and annoying as he was, Reno was good at thinking outside the box. In fact she wasn't sure he knew there *was* a box.

Reno grinned.

"Or you can do this the Turk way."

TBC