Disclaimer: No means no!

Author's Note: Written for my LJ friend, Neocloud9, who wished for a fic to explain the canon, anime-illustration of butler (AKA 'phail') Grell and Lau dancing together.

Warnings: SebaxCiel, Phail!GrellxLau. Inspired by the above-mentioned picture. Takes place during Ciel's training to be a Trap. Written and edited within the span of an hour, just to be done with it.

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Two to Tango

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STOMP. "…and that is my foot, young master. As it was thirty seconds ago."

"Well, quit putting it beneath mine!"

A throat clears; a tiny cough, sounding both ginger and flustered, somehow manages to paint over the boy's frustrated snarl. "Uh… um… Lau-sama…?"

Languid amusement is its answer. "Hmmm?"

"Young master, this is what we call 'dancing.' Not 'tripping in time to music.'"

"What music? All I hear is you bitching at me!"

Another STOMP. Another moment of hesitant wavering.

"Lau-sama, I… I, uh, don't think he's paying attention anymore…"

Perpetually lowered lashes flutter faintly, as if in confusion: the first, tentative wing-beats of a baby butterfly. "…who?"

"Even Cinderella, a lowly kitchen maid, knew how to dance, young master. What does that say about you?" A dry drawl, full of barely-contained sarcasm. Their argument is a metronome in itself.

"That I'm not a kitchen maid, perhaps? And that was just a stupid fairytale, you twat."

More embarrassment, more swift glances over his shoulder. "Ciel-sama. He's not paying attention anymore…"

The China man hums. "So it would seem. The dear butler has always been quite good at stealing his attentions away… but why should that matter?"

Stomp, stomp, STOMP. Rapid twirling— trying to circle one another, but forgetting that their fingers are intertwined. "Perhaps it was, young master, but as we are here to turn you into the bell of a ball, I thought such a metaphor appropriate."

Sneering. Always attractive. "Does that make you my fairy, then?"

One smirk is countered by another. "I believe we already established that while working on your corset, young master."

Both servants are speaking at once. "W-well, we began dancing as a sort of… um, example for Ciel-sama, so…"

A Cheshire smile, a kitten's purr. A pair of clasped hands tighten. "Did we?"

In reply, Grell turns as red as his mistress's hair. As red as Ciel's flaming cheeks.

Neither couple says anything more.

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