Raising the Barre Chapter 5: End-of-Arm Guidance, a criminal minds fanfic

A/N: Thank y'all so far for all of the reviews.

Much love,

Blue

Raising the Barre

CHAPTER FIVE: End-of-Arm Guidance

The two-man team sat beside each other in the confessional booth and stared at the camera awkwardly.

Spencer looked over at him and shrugged, clad in his cute little suspenders and red silk tie. His hair was gelled back and parted; the kid was damn near edible. Yeah, Derek looked awesome in a suit, but Spencer… wow. If looks could kill, Spencer would be a mass murderer with a price on his head. This week, they were going for 1920's chic and they'll probably induce multiple orgasms by just showing up dressed like this.

Derek smiled back endearingly as Spencer's beauty smacked him again, and with a black bowler hat in his hands, he looked like exactly one million bucks. Derek looked back at the camera, "So, in a nutshell, I'm way better than he thought I'd be. He's so proud of me, look. Look at his little smile. He's trying to hide it. Look, look! Before it goes away!"

Spencer's eyes were formed stern, one hand over his mouth to hide the grin that Derek placed there before chuckling and nudging Derek with his shoulder, "We'll see if I'm proud of you tonight, okay? You'd better keep your elbow parallel, or I know something."

Derek expressed, "That's Spencer's way of saying 'Derek is the most talented dancer on this planet and most galaxies, and I would be honored to mother his children'."

Spencer rolled his eyes, "That's not at all what I said."

Derek nudged him, "That's exactly what you said."

"Go ahead. Keep joking around. I'm not above pants-ing you in front of America," Spencer replied, turning to the camera with a stern face, "He has a lot of work to do, but he is definitely improving."

Derek smirked, "Oh, that's not the word you used backstage. I think you called me something like... Lord of Dance, King of Ballroom, Guru of Gettin' Down."

Spencer turned around, "I'm not afraid to hit you. Your muscles don't scare me."

Derek laughed out loud, "Bring it, toothpick. Hit me. Go for it."

Spencer raised his eyebrows, "You serious?"

Derek held out his arm, "Yeah, man, lay it on me."

"You know what? Fine. This right here is for all of the pain and anguish you've caused me in the last two weeks," Spencer preluded before raising his hand over Derek's arm, "I'm giving you time to back out, now."

Derek rolled his eyes.

Spencer shrugged, reached out and smacked Derek on the arm as hard as he could. Pain shot up his elbow and Derek felt himself stiffening up and gripping it, leaning back on the seat with an, "Ahhh, God!"

Spencer looked back at the camera with a satisfied look on his face, "I'm the one in control here. Just FYI."

The little light flashed above the camera that told them that time was up in the confessional. Derek was still leaned back in his chair, eyes closed and grumbling as the camera clicked off. Spencer wrapped his hand around Derek's wrist and pulled. Derek complained, "That really hurt."

Spencer stood and tugged harder, "We've concluded that I can smack you around, but I don't have the ability to lift your fat ass up. We have to get backstage."

Derek whined, "But you gave me a boo boo!"

Spencer hissed, pulling in earnest, "Fucking child. I don't know what I see in you."

Derek perked up from his seat, whimpers and whines ages away as he grinned, "You see something in me?"

Spencer stammered, "I—I didn't say that exactly."

"I knew you wanted this chocolate caramel mocha latte express," Derek wiggled his eyebrows, "It's obvious, darling. You like your coffee my shade, don't you?"

Spencer muttered, "Th...that has nothing to do with-"

"Oh? Yes, it does, Doctor," Derek winked, "Why you so obsessed with me?"

Spencer huffed out, "Don't you start quoting Mariah—"

Derek continued, "Whoa, calm down, Sensei. You're cute and all, but I'd rather you wait until after the dance to jump my bones—seeing as you're all eager for it."

Spencer exploded, "Rrr! I never even said that! You just want to go on and assume things about people! People that you don't even know, by the way, like who even are you? I just met you and ever since then you've been such a rude, uppity, douchy—freaking—I can't stand—you're so goddamn—" Spencer's flushed anger soon took the form of frustration before he paused and pressed his fingers to his temples, "Oh, God," Spencer hissed, eyes closing as he rubbed his forehead, "I'm getting a stress headache. Look at what you did, Derek. Are you proud? Because now I'm in pain. Is that that you wanted?"

Derek paused, "You literally just did that to yourself."

Spencer hissed, "I'm not talking to you."

Derek continued, "I can't believe I just watched you stress yourself out. You combusted like a little balloon with too much air in it."

Spencer growled, "Derek."

Derek motioned with his hands, "You went… pop."

Spencer kept one hand poised at his temples and the other crumpling to a fist in Derek's direction as he seemed far beyond words, "Let's just dance before I kill you."

And with a satisfied smile, Derek stood and made his way out of the confessional with his Tylenol popping dance partner.

Derek and Spencer were third. Penelope sat beside Derek with a flourish in her gauzy blue ball gown as the first couple made their way onto the dance floor with a tango. He didn't watch the dancing couple or even notice Penelope at his side for a solid minute. He was too preoccupied with going over the dance steps in his head as his headphones blasted The Hives.

He worried about the set pieces they'd only practiced once with. He worried about his timing around the first chorus. He worried about Spencer's headache. He worried about their fanbase and wondered if it were going to fall due to the closeness of the two men during this dance. It's not like the quickstep was in anyway racy or sexual. Spencer and Derek were just required to touch more often and while they could cheat with the Jive, they needed to know early on that no matter how goofy they got in their dances… they were a couple. A dance couple, but a couple nonetheless. They pair danced and they had to tackle ballroom and Latin just like every other pair. Derek and Spencer weren't going to be given cop out after cop out so that they could put up the illusion that they weren't into each other. The two had to prove that they could pair dance just as romantically as the other eleven.

So, yeah, he was stressing out.

A lot.

While he was unloading some of his stress through teasing Spencer, the young dancer was past annoyance. Besides, now that the kid has a headache, Derek should probably back off. Well... just a little.

Penelope rested her head on his shoulder and Derek noticed that her soft blonde hair smelled like strawberries. He smiled. She was comforting to him. He doesn't know why, but ever since they'd met the had been just as compatible as two peas in a pod. Penelope was like that other half he didn't know he'd been looking for and he'd only seen her a handful of times. She smiled, "What's up, Black Beauty? You seem a little down."

Derek shrugged and glanced over at Spencer whom was leaning back on the couch with a cold damp cloth on his forehead, "Not down. A little on edge, but... trying to stay positive."

Penelope giggled, "What? Trouble in paradise?"

Derek smirked, "No, we've always argued. It's just tonight. I'm bugging out over the quickstep."

She gasped loudly, "You've got the quickstep?! On your second week?!"

Derek nodded, "I know, Mama. I know."

"Well, you'll nail it. You always do," Penelope replied with an easy smile.

Derek narrowed his eyes, "You've only seen me dance once."

Penelope added, "Once and a half. I caught you and Spencer pseudo-rehearsing in the Red Room."

Derek grinned at her, "We couldn't really jump around packed in with a bunch of sweaty, glittery people."

She looked at him knowingly from under her bangs, "You two sure could hold hands though."

Derek covered, waving his hands around, "We weren't holding hands. It was a dance position."

Penelope chuckled, "That just happens to include hand holding."

"I call it 'end-of-arm guidance'," Derek corrected, "It's manlier and more true."

Penelope nudged Derek's shoulder, "On the topic of 'manliness', may I ask the same-sex team… who's going to be the woman tonight?"

Spencer hissed from close to Derek's other shoulder, one hand clutching an ice cold can of soda to his temple, "We're both men! That doesn't change because one dances on the left side!"

Derek replied, "He offered. To be honest, he seemed a bit too excited. I had to talk him out of wearing a dress."

Spencer growled under his breath, "When this headache fades, Derek, I swear to God... it's going to be you, me, and a handful of lethal subatomic particles."

Penelope laughed aloud, a soft high sound, "Well, he seems happy about it."

After the second team got their scores, Derek and Spencer headed down the steps together during the commercial. Their little cottage wall was wheeled in and Spencer whispered over to him, "You're going to do great."

Derek let out a nervous grin, fiddling with the lapels of his zoot suit jacket, "I'll try."

"Don't try. Do it. You may be a douchebag, but damn if you can't dance," Spencer reached out as they cleared the bottom step and his hand brushed against Derek's and he slid their fingers together briefly before continuing on. Derek snapped his head up to look at him and under the low lights, he could see Spencer blush. The dancer adjusted his hat, pushing his hair behind his ear tellingly and looking up at Derek with cheeks tinted with blush, "End-of-arm guidance."

For once, Derek decided to let it go and not tease the living shit out of him. Even though he so wanted to.

This was as close as Spencer would ever get to outright saying "I believe in you". He felt a small smile push onto the corners of his lips as he held that information to his chest. Spencer really didn't have to do that for him.

He could have nudged his shoulder or slapped his back, to convey the same message, but Spencer chose to brush his hand against Derek's. It was almost like the kid would have grabbed it completely and gone for a little "ten finger tango" action. Did Spencer want to hold his hand as much as Derek wanted to hold his? Maybe he's reading too much into it. Yeah, he's totally reading too much into it.

The crew left the stage and the camera guy called out, "Fifteen seconds till house is up! Thirteen! Twelve! Eleven…"

Derek jogged over to the cottage wall and walked around it, giving Spencer one last look before disappearing behind it and hearing the gut dropping sound of the theme music riling up again. Derek glanced up to the stage as their little week long video played. He half hoped that the camera team edited around their flirting.

Spencer grabbed the titled card by the edge of the room and opened it, looking over at Derek with excitement, "This is the moment of truth."

Derek tapped his hands on the barre and made a drum roll sound.

Spencer read the card, "Qu….whoa. I thought they weren't going to give us these. At least for a while."

Derek stopped his hands, "What? What did we get?"

Spencer cleared his throat, "Quickstep."

Derek paused, "Oh… sh*beep*t."

Spencer sighed, "Yeah, I know. I just had several other dances prepared to teach. I didn't even consider the quickstep to be an option. Not this week."

Derek grinned, "Does that mean practice is cancelled?"

Spencer laughed, "Are you kidding? This is a hard one, we're going to need every minute we've got."

Derek winked, "That's what she said."

Spencer glared heatlessly.

The scene cut to Spencer showing Derek his first few steps.

There Spencer was dancing with the grace of a fucking swan in a Caltech sweatshirt, and there Derek stood, watching with a look on his face that made it seem like he was two seconds away from blowing chunks. Derek gave him a pointed look, "I'm not doing that. It's too hard. Show me something else."

"You haven't even tried it," Spencer said breathily, looking back at Derek with wide eyes.

Derek folded his arms, "I don't need to."

Spencer sighed, "Just try the damned combination, Derek. No need to be difficult."

Derek replied, "You're just getting all touchy because you're the woman."

"I'm not the—" Spencer clutched the bridge of his nose, "I'm dancing opposite you, and in this dance, one must lead and one must follow. I'm not the woman, you misogynist, I am simply the follower."

Derek chuckled, "Are you gonna wear a skirt?"

Spencer folded his arms and gave Derek a look.

Derek broke down into a laugh, "I can just see you now in those frilly little outfits with the tassels and sh*beep*t."

Spencer grimaced, "Are you done?"

Derek bent over cackling, hands on his knees, "Your hairy-ass legs would look hilarious with strappy heels all up them. Oh, my God. I'm dying! Help me, man, I think I'm dying!"

"Derek," Spencer muttered, shaking his head slowly, "How old are you? Five?"

Derek wiped a tear from his eye, wheezing, "Goddamn that was funny."

After that, Derek was shown in the Friday afternoon confessional room to speak about his take on the halfway point.

Derek stared into the screen with a defeated look on his face, "This guy is kicking me, man. Like seriously. Kicking. Forcefully. All over the hardwood."

*A clip played over Derek's voice of Spencer kicking Derek in the rear to straighten his back.*

Derek continued, "He won't let up! It's like he has no idea that I'm husky as hell. I could sit on him and shut him up. Easy," as he said that, a small smile appeared on Derek's face, "But, the Hell he's raining down on me… it's working. I'll tell ya. I'm gliding around that floor like a damned swan. Problem is, he's comfortable. He thinks that cute little 'pissed off face' will make me his bitch, but it won't."

*A clip played of Spencer glaring Derek into submission after he had mistakenly stomped on Spencer's foot as they practiced a step.*

"Okay, it does. But just a little," Derek grimaced, "I'm no match for the frowny eyes and puppy pout. They get me every time… damn him."

Spencer was shown in the Friday afternoon confessional room as well.

He stated, "Derek Morgan is the largest, rudest, jerkiest, most persistent pain in my ass that I have ever had in my entire life. I'm not kidding. I spend most of the rehearsals debating whether to punch him in the face or not."

*a clip was shown of Derek poking Spencer in the shoulder over, and over, and over again until the dancer turned around and screeched at him to quit it*

"Seriously. This man pisses me off like nothing in the world does. He's got mountains of unnecessary attitude, makes the most inappropriate comments imaginable, and he's so stubborn that I'm surprised he can function," Spencer sighed angrily as he continued, "But there's something about him that's just... I don't know... weirdly..." Spencer grumbled in frustration as his voice trailed off. He pushed his hair aside, face growing red.

*The two were sitting down underneath the barre, water bottles in hand. Their words were edited out, and they were talking about God knows what. Derek suddenly leaned over and ruffled Spencer's hair as he took a sip of water, and the dancer looked up at him from the tirade on his hair. Spencer's brown eyes softened. He smiled a little bit. Then, he elbowed Derek hard in the ribs, "I told you not to touch the hair!" Derek doubled over in pain and Spencer's smile widened. He looked back over at Derek while he was distracted and he could swear the dancer's face went a little red. Spencer bit his lip and looked away.*

"Fine, whatever. I'll be a man and admit it. I think he's cute. No big deal," Spencer laughed in the confessional, hiding his face in his hands, "It's not like I have a stupid crush on him or anything."

*Derek walked by Spencer in the studio room, sassing him about what he was NOT going to be doing in the dance. The large man bumped Spencer as he walked by and the camera followed Spencer. Spencer growled and watched after him. His anger melted away for a moment and he stared after Derek, biting away his own smile as he struggled to contain it. Derek turned and glanced at Spencer and the dancer returned a glare*

Spencer continued, "I mean, it's Derek, you know? Eww. Gross. I would never. I'm just saying. He happens to be aesthetically... ugh, you know what? I'm digging myself the biggest hole. I'm just going to shut up now," Spencer looked into the camera pleadingly, "You're not using any of this, right? Please don't."

Derek watched from behind the prop house, eyes wide and disbelieving. Whoa. Spencer just admitted to... harboring a thing for him. On national television. Derek's insides were filled with really warm jelly, and the butterflies in his gut from dance nerves just increased by a factor of one billion. Derek glanced over at Spencer whom was standing behind another prop, staring up at the screen, unmoving with his hand slammed over his mouth. The kid was mortified.

Oh, shit.

That wasn't supposed to get out, was it?

He didn't have time to react before another clip of Team Wild Card was shown from their fourth rehearsal.

Derek and Spencer were beside each other with their arms straight out in fifth position, their feet moving at the exact same time on one beat. Spencer had brought in tap shoes for the both of them so that he could hear their feet hitting the floor simultaneously. The first seven times, Derek messed up, but in this clip, his head was held straight up and he executed everything perfectly. The music ended and a smile crept up on Spencer's face as they hit a closing position.

Before Spencer could lower his arms, Derek grabbed him up in his arms and started spinning him around the studio. Spencer started laughing and followed the very loosely done ballroom glide as Derek shouted out, "Yeah! I got it, I got it!"

Spencer laughed out, "Yes, you've got it! You did it!"

Derek added, "I did, didn't I? Yes, you're the best teacher ever!"

Spencer blushed as Derek twirled him around, "I wouldn't go that far."

Derek slowed the spinning, pushing Spencer's hair out of his face, "I would!"

The time passed again with a classy little montage of them quickstepping and Derek failing over and over again. The final clip was the one of Spencer and Derek in the confessional room before the show.

Spencer replied, turning to the camera with a stern face, "He has a lot of work to do, but he is definitely improving."

Derek smirked, "Oh, that's not the word you used backstage. I think you called me something like... Lord of Dance, King of Ballroom, Guru of Gettin' Down."

Spencer turned around, "I'm not afraid to hit you. Your muscles don't scare me."

Derek laughed out loud, "Bring it, toothpick. Hit me. Go for it."

Spencer raised his eyebrows, "You serious?"

Derek held out his arm, "Yeah, man, lay it on me."

Derek rolled his eyes.

Spencer looked back at the camera with a satisfied look on his face, "I'm the one in control here. Just FYI."

The stage softly plunged into darkness and that British announcer guy said into the room, "Dancing the quickstep, Derek Morgan and his partner Doc Reid."

Lights went up quickly and the band pounded through the speakers with the bass and drums on loud as the singers yelled out, "Yeah, yeah, yeah!"

Derek couldn't be distracted from what he'd just seen and heard. He had to act quickly, and dance. Now! He jumped out of the cottage wall door and hit his mark downstage, turning to see Spencer who crept along the side of the wall as if he'd been hiding there the entire time. Spencer gave him a doe eyed look and twiddled his hat in time to the music.

"You've got the… troubles, but… I can help." the singers said seductively.

Derek took off his own hat and tossed it as they screamed, "Yeah!"

Spencer ran across the stage and flew into Derek's arms as he started the combination, leading Spencer around the floor to the beat of the upbeat song. Their feet flew and Derek held Spencer at arm's length until it came time for them to part.

"First in line and last to know!"

The two jogged across the stage from each other and hopped up and down on their own, doing the same fifth position steps that Spencer was showing him with the tap shoes.

"Move too fast and then too slow!"

Spencer did a quick turn and ran back towards Derek and they pushed off of each other's hands.

"People see me and they go... woo hoo!"

Derek approached Spencer whom was throwing his hands up and circling around only to be caught and spun around to meet Derek once more. Then, they tapped out combination after combination.

When the music slowed, Derek held Spencer close and they swayed gently. A loud "aww" brushed through the crowd and Derek could feel Spencer's warm, soft lips smiling beside his cheek. "On, and on. The world spins 'round. It's enough to get you down. But I don't worry. Because sometimes you just have to..." Their stubble brushed before they parted to jump into another quick footed step set. Spencer went first and Derek stepped off to follow him, placing his hand at Spencer's hip and moving his feet to the beat.

Then, it happened.

Derek lost time.

Shit.

He missed his place and felt Spencer's lips purse for a split moment as he tried to fix himself to meld back into Spencer's perfect thrumming feet. Derek clenched his jaw and found a way to adjust his steps. The whole ordeal lasted barely more than two seconds, but it was enough to piss Derek off. He kept his chin held high and hoped his face didn't give him away. That divided the winners from the losers. He was allowed to fuck up, as long as it didn't look like it bothered him. But, it did. God, it did. The dance was finally over and it ended with Derek running back into the cottage wall and leaving Spencer sitting on the ground. The crowd began to clap and Derek brought himself through the door again to join Spencer.

Spencer gathered him up into a brief side-armed hug and patted his back as they separated, whispering, "It was fine. They barely noticed. You did good, man."

"Fuck," Derek grimaced and wrapped his arm around Spencer's shoulders, walking them up to the judges table. Looking down at them, Derek could feel the conviction. Dammit. The male host beside him asked them calmly, "Very interesting dance, you two. How did you both feel about it?"

Spencer grinned tiredly, "Derek did great tonight. I'm proud of him."

Derek looked over at Spencer and gave him a silent 'you didn't have to say that'.

Spencer gave back a just as silent 'I don't give a fuck I said it anyway'.

The two looked over at Jennifer as the crowd settled down and she raised her hands in earnest, "Derek you did a very good job tackling a very difficult dance, so props for that. The two of you are so cute, I really enjoyed your chemistry and the slow part was just adorable."

The crowd whooped in agreement.

Jennifer continued with a flip of her blonde hair, "That being true, Derek, I've gotta say… yikes. What was that over there in the middle of the dance? When you lost your footing, you let it ruin your mood. Your jaw was like 'rrh' through the rest of the dance, and it was really distracting how mad you were at yourself. It's just week two. It's fine if you mess up."

He heard a loud, "We still love you, 43! We still love you!" from the crowd as they all clapped for him.

Derek began to smile a bit and he felt Spencer's arm tighten around his waist.

Hotch gave a frown, "But, we're not going to discount the fact that it happened. You need to pay more attention to the beats of the music. If the song is in ¾, you dance in ¾, do you understand? Keep that motion in your upper leg; make sure it gets to the base of your feet, and watch your posture. Since your heights are so close, you tend to stick your bum out. You have to remember that Doc, while androgynous, isn't a woman. You're a big guy yourself, but he's taller than you."

Derek nodded.

Spencer winced, "I wouldn't say androgynous…"

Jennifer replied easily, "I would."

Hotch added, "You two are very likeable, and the way you dance together is odd. But, it's the right kind of odd, I really think the competition needed this type of pairing a long time ago. You both show that you don't have to be a male/female couple to dance ballroom and dance it well. I can't wait to see more from you. Jennifer is right, it's only the second week. Mistakes happen. We still overall adored your performance."

The crowd yelled in earnest and Spencer wiggled at his side excitedly.

Rossi stood and tossed his arms up into the air, "Derek Morgan, you sexy beast! Your hips don't lie, now do they?! They don't know how to, the way you snapped them around! Shakira! Shakira!"

The crowd let out a bark of laughter.

Rossi grinned, "Your mistake was very apparent. Yes, it was minimal, but I'll have to agree with Jennifer as well. It put a pout on your face, and we really wish it didn't, because you did a great job. The tension was fiery, you two are wonderful together, and Doc," Rossi added with a wag of his finger, "Don't think we didn't catch that hand thing you did before the dance! And now you're calling each other 'cute'? Do we have a relationship alert here?!"

The crowd rooted loudly, "Yes!"

Derek shook his head and waved his hands around wildly, "No!"

Jennifer laughed, "You sure about that?"

Spencer blushed and replied, "Yes, we're sure."

The male host butted in, "Okay, it's time for you two to go up and hear your scores."

Derek and Spencer separated and turned to the steps, heading across the stage. As they reached it, Spencer leaned over and took Derek's hand. Tingles went up his arm as the man did so, and Derek looked over at him as they headed up the stairs, "What are you doing?"

Spencer spoke simply under his breath, "Whether we like it or not, we're splooging 'gay' all over the place and the crowd is eating it up."

Derek raised an eyebrow, "So?"

Spencer replied, "After your fuck up, we need all the fangirl votes we can get."

Derek tightened his hand around Spencer's and hissed, "I'm sorry, okay!"

Spencer said as they cleared the stairs with a pinched smile, "If we go home, I'm kicking every inch of your ass. Then, I'm coming back for seconds."

Derek gulped and approached the female host whom was waiting at the top of the stairs to reveal their scores from the judges. The woman grinned brightly in her chiffon red dress and asked them, hinting toward their linked hands, winking over at them, "So... Doc. You think Derek is cute?"

Spencer blushed. His humiliating confessional was clearly the last thing he wanted to talk about. He muttered, "I was hoping no one would mention that..."

Derek folded his arms and smirked as he poured salt on the wound, "Yeah, what was that back there? You push me around all the time and I'm suddenly cute now?"

"No! Well... yes, but... not like that!" Spencer hid his face in his hands, genuinely embarrassed, "Tony said he'd get rid of the footage."

Derek nodded, "So, the arm slap wasn't you pulling my metaphorical pigtails?"

Spencer said through his fingers, "I'm not... I am in no way... I didn't mean for it to come out like... ugh... I'm sorry."

The crowd laughed at his misfortune.

"Don't be sorry, dude, come here," Derek wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "It's cool. No worries."

Spencer looked up at him, "Really?"

Derek shook his head, "Hell no. Expect the teasing to get worse. I have so much canon fodder now, you don't even know."

The host cooed, "You two are adorable. Ready to hear your scores?"

"Ready as we'll ever be," Derek replied.

The screen showed Jennifer holding up her card. She had given them a "7". Eek. Next, Hotch raised his card. They'd gotten another "7". Shit. Rossi raised his last. He had awarded them their third "7". Spencer rubbed the back of Derek's hand with his thumb. Fucking ouch.

The host turned to the two men, "That gives the two of you a score of twenty-one out of thirty. How do you feel about that?"

Spencer spoke, "No matter what score we got, I'm proud of our performance. Yes, it wasn't the best, but I wouldn't take it back."

Derek added, "I really enjoyed learning the dance. I could have done better, but we had fun, and I really hope that shone through."

As the night drew to a close, Derek sat in his dressing room with his head in his hands. He couldn't believe they got three sevens. After all that they went through, Derek can't have ended it now. He's only spent two weeks in this competition and it was one of the most emotional, physically traumatic, exciting times of his life.

Plus, he met the erratic Spencer. The one that changed everything for him in an instant he walked through the studio door to see him standing there. The one that after all of the poking and prodding and teasing... actually thinks he's cute.

Derek doesn't think he could handle it if they went home so early. Besides the fact that Spencer and Derek would be separated by several time zones… only the losers get sent home early. And Derek wasn't a loser. Hell, according to Rossi, his hips don't lie. If that's not a compliment on his technique, Derek doesn't know what it is.

Yet, here he is with a score of 21 out of 30, wondering if he'll lose all of this because he tripped and let it get to him.

Fuck.

There was a quiet knocking on Derek's dressing room door, and he heard a small shuffle of feet on the other side. Standing with a huff, Derek walked over to the door and opened it to see an angry looking Spencer.

Ah, yes. Then, there's that. He must be here for the ass kicking ceremony.

Dressed in the tux pants he danced in and a blue button up, stifled into a heavy grey cable-knit sweater and red tie, Spencer didn't really seem to be one for violence, but Derek wasn't dumb enough to let that fool him. He sighed and let Spencer into his room. Spencer stomped into it grumpily. Closing the door, Derek turned and rubbed his hand along his face, "Go ahead, lay it on me. What do you want to yell at me about?"

Spencer whispered as quietly as he could, "My mic pack is stuck in my pants and I can't get it out."

Derek stifled a chuckle, "Are you serious?"

Spencer held a finger to his lips, "If I say anything loud enough, the entire ballroom will hear it."

Derek shrugged, "Isn't everybody gone by now?"

Spencer motioned, "The seats still have people in them and the last thing I need is for everyone to hear me in here with you—"

Derek rolled his eyes and folded his arms, "Oh, so this is about your little love confession."

Spencer hissed, "Oh, come on. Don't be a fifth grader, Derek."

Derek folded his arms and remarked, "I'm not being a fifth grader. You're the one who told America that you had a crush on me."

Spencer's eyes flashed with frustration as he whispered out, "I do not have a crush you! You just have a pretty face, and right now I would like nothing more than to punch it until it shuts up! Now, go in my back pocket and untangle the damned mic pack!"

Derek sighed and motioned for Spencer to turn around. As he did so, Derek smirked and let his eyes roam along the pleasant expanse of the dancer's butt. Boy, was it cute; just sitting there all sweet and tender, ripe for the touching.

Spencer growled, "Stop. Staring. At. My. Ass."

"You don't want me to look with my eyes, fine," Derek took the opportunity to latch his hand firmly onto Spencer's rear and give it a testing squeeze. Right cheek. Wow, it feels great. Round, yet sculpted in all the right places.

Spencer yelped and jumped away from him as he shouted, "What the hell, Derek?!"

Derek laughed a side splitting laugh, "Boy, where have you been hiding that butt?"

Spencer screeched, "None of your business, you perv!"

Derek cackled, "No doubt the ballroom heard that!"

Spencer slapped a hand over his own mouth and glared, pointing at his pants. Quaking with laughter, Derek reached into Spencer's back pocket and pulled out the small pack, untangling it from the seam at the base of the pocket before handing it to him.

He abruptly turned it off and glared at Derek, "I said take out the mic pack, not grab my ass."

Derek smirked, "I don't understand why not. You've got a nice one; firm and toned, yet plump and perky. I should know, since I got a nice handful."

Spencer let out a low growl.

Derek scoffed, "What, dude? I refuse to believe you've gone your whole life without anyone ever copping a feel on you. Hell, people have grabbed my ass on several occasions. Complete strangers too! I'd be in the grocery store and hands will just appear out of the clear blue sky. It's a blessing and a curse, come to think of it."

Spencer folded his arms, "I'll have you know, not nearly as many people have touched my bottom. I don't just whore it out."

Derek asked curiously, "Well, then, who has had the honor?"

Spencer glared, indignantly, "None of your beeswax, asshole."

Derek chuckled, "Did you just say 'beeswax'? The last person I've ever heard say that was six-years-old."

Spencer looked Derek over, "I spend plenty of time with six-year-olds, and I can verify that I've never heard that statement from either of them."

Derek asked, "Dude, why were you hanging around first graders?"

Spencer answered, "What do you think I do for a living, Derek? Sit on the studio floor, listen to Sarah McLachlan, and wait for you to get back?"

Derek rebuffed awkwardly, "I… uh… yeah?"

Spencer nodded, "Because, of course, the world revolves around you and that's the obvious answer."

Derek rebounded, "Well, you're a dancer! What else do dancers do, other than dance?!"

Spencer glared at him, "Teach, genius. Friday mornings at nine, I hold a tap class for elementary school children."

Derek paused, "…oh. I guess, that's why our rehearsals start at noon that day..."

Spencer shrugged, "They pay me thirty five bucks an hour per child, so it's really not bad."

Derek gave a considering nod, "Yeah, that's actually pretty sweet."

"I also belong to this one ballet company in San Fran that does seasonal performances for charity and some sparingly for commission, Derek, I don't live in the building." Spencer said, eyes flicking back up to his partner's, "I'm working on my masters in Psychology as well."

Derek peered into Spencer's eyes, "A masters degree? Right now? Come on, man, you don't have the time to do—"

Spencer leaned against the closed door, "Wednesday and Thursday nights, I take a three-hour night class and I'm in the middle of two twenty-page papers."

Derek nodded once more, "I'm starting to understand the coffee thing."

Spencer's hand trailed toward the door handle, "Good. Not that I'm not thoroughly enjoying your butt grabbing and offensive stereotyping and all, but I have… stuff to do, so…"

Derek gestured toward the door, "Sure! By all means. Skadoodle."

"Okay, awesome," Spencer smiled good-naturedly and pulled open the door, pausing to add, "And don't beat yourself up tonight, man, you did amazingly. There's no doubt I'll see you Wednesday morning for the Awkward Parade."

Derek raised an eyebrow, "Awkward Parade?"

Spencer grinned, "You're taking me to prom, remember?"

Derek nodded after a moment, "Right, right! Prom week! Corsages. Tuxes. Glitter. Gotcha. Just have to make it through elimination."

"We'd better," Spencer leaned on the door and looked over at him, "I never went to my prom so you have my dreams to live up to. If I don't feel like a princess, I won't put out."

Derek let out a laugh, "Either way, I'll still respect you in the morning, baby."

"I'll hold you to that," Spencer laughed back.

A/N: You're going to want to tune in for next week's chapter, because tensions (and other things) rise as prom night gets closer.

Love,

Blue