AN: My laptop has decided it doesn't want to save new files on my word processor, so I'm giving a word processing app a try on my iPad for this latest crossover ficlet.

Here's hoping it works...

Set during Glee 2x21 'Funeral', and before anyone complains about Sue being OOC, she was arranging to have the club shipped off to Libya to be kidnapped and/or murdered in this episode, so I doubt she'd balk at summoning a demon to dance them into their demise.

Disclaimer: I own the plot. That is all.

Warnings: Mentioned off-screen minor character death. Violence.

Title from 'I've Got A Theory/Bunnies/If We're Together' from the musical Buffy episode 'Once More With Feeling'.

What's This Cheery Singing All About?

Kurt raised an incredulous eyebrow as he watched Coach Sylvester railing at a red-skinned gentleman in a three piece blue suit. Not a colour choice he would have made, but it was strangely effective against the gentleman's skin. He tuned back in from his appraisal of their unexpected visitor's apparel just in time to hear Coach Sue bellow,

"That book said you caused people to sing and dance til they died! But look at them! Every single mis-shapen, miserable one of them is still here, poisoning my ears with their very existence!"

The dapper gentleman stood his ground, arms folded,

"Considering the several other students who've spontaneously combusted over the last few days, it's clearly nothing to do with my powers. I don't know why it didn't work on them, but don't you dare blame me."

Coach Sue drew a deep breath, clearly about to continue with her tirade, but Kurt stepped in betwee them, keeping a cautious eye on the Coach while addressing their guest.

"How exactly does this singing and dancing to death thing work?"

The red-skinned man sighed,

"I open your heart so your innermost secrets bubble to the surface, bursting out of you through the medium of song and dance. Eventually the secrets being revealed become too much, the energy too great, and you burst into flames."

Kurt nodded thoughtfully,

"That's why it didn't work then. We"-and here he gestured around the room-"sing about our innermost feelings all the time. Bursting into intricate song and dance routines is kinda our shtick. We're acclimatised to the energy of it all, and thusly un-combustible."

Their visitor and Coach Sue both blinked at that, and Kurt turned away, before spinning back and punching the red-skinned interloper square in the jaw.

"That is for forcing me to endure the travesty that was Jacob Ben-Israel's butchering of Mother Monster's Papparazzi. Thankfully he only got to the first chorus before that hideous 'fro was burned from the top of his head. I hear he'll be recovering through most of next year."

The gentleman stared at him, before inclining his head in a respectful nod; he then turned a lecherous expression on Sue.

"Well my business here is done. As the one who summoned me, I'm afraid you'll be coming with me. My little slice of Hell has long been without a queen."

Sue scoffed, reaching behind her and drawing a long sword seemingly out of thin air; she swung once, and the demon's head bounced along the floor. For a moment all was silent, then the head's eyes opened, and he spoke again.

"So far as refusing a proposal goes, that seems a trifle excessive."

Sue just sneered at him, as his body walked over and picked the head up, settling it back into place on his shoulders.

"Sorry Sondheim, I'm already married, to someone far more appealing than some jumped-up dance master from down below. Get last before I really get steamed."

He sneered at her in return, dipped a graceful bow to the rest of the room, and disappeared with a burst of sound.

Sue looked around the room, glaring at them all, then stormed out, digging into her track suit for her cellphone. They could hear her muttering "Plan B it is then" as she left earshot, but we're distracted by Mr Schue ushering Jesse St James into the room with some nonsense about him being their new consultant.

Kurt rolled his eyes as the room exploded into chaos. Why couldn't the demon have stuck around long enough to bump off St James?

AN: this writing on iPad business is okay for short fics like this, but should be interesting to see what it's like for longer fic...

Anyway, hope you enjoy this little thing :-)