Work Text:
Spike loved to dance with his black blossom. Her movements were like a sinuous vine, beautiful, deceptively delicate, hiding an inexorable power. He liked the clinging that occasionally accompanied the dance, as well. He knew he’d never control her, wouldn’t if he could, but it was nice to be in the lead, if only for the sake of variety.
Now, in Paris while en route to Romania, they had discovered a new dance, one that didn’t require a lead, or even a partner. Spike found it quite exciting, usually. But when Dru attempted the cancan, it came out all wrong.