Disclaimy bit:  Here's where I say I don't own anything and I'm not making money off it because I'd rather not get sued.



Dance of Deception
By: Cath

Fandango tapped his way down the hall, the luscious Rosa by his side as always.  "Baby, you did so good."  The hand that was not around her waist clutched the small white ball with his Royal Rumble number on it.  "I knew you'd do amazing.  You always do.  Still, to get number-"  He looked at the number, wanting to see it once more, to revel in his opportunity.  He frowned.  "Rosa," he said slowly, turning the ball so she could see the numbers.  "This wasn't... what you picked."

Rosa shook her head, a hand flying to her chest in shock.  "Of course not!  Someone switched them!"

Fandango looked away, his eyes narrowing.  "I don't know, but we will find out who.  You talk to the referee who was in the room.  I will get to the bottom of this."

-

Mamboing his way through the arena, Fandango soon happened upon the Rosebuds.  He tsked.  "No, no, no!  All wrong.  You have to feel the music with your hips.  Let the rhythms guide your movements.  This... this is not dahnce."

"Uh," the hotdog spoke up.  "There isn't any music right now."

"Don't be a lemon."  Adam Rose's voice cut through the air, causing the Rosebuds to freeze like prairie dogs catching scent of a lion.  "The man knows a thing or two about dancing.  Now do better!"  He clapped his hands and the dancers resumed, casting nervous glances in their direction every so often.  "Aside from offering dance tips, what brings you by?"  Rose's tongue curled around the base of his lollipop, drawing it past his lips as he watched the other man inquisitively.

"I'm looking," Fandango drew out the last word.  "For the man who stole my Royal Rumble number."

"Oh I hear ya, mate.  Nobody likes to get stolen from.  Tel you what, I'll keep my ears open."  He gestured to the group.  "And I'll keep their ears open, see if I can dig anythin' up for ya."

"Thank you."

Fandango quick-stepped down the hall, to the tune of Rose yelling
"-I said pivot, not pause.  Ugh!"

(*)


Rosa pushed the referee up against the wall, a small smile curving her lips.  "Now," she said.  "I know you saw what happened.  I know you saw who stole Fandango's number.  So all I need is for you to tell me.  Who was it?"

The referee's eyes darted from side to side, but it seemed nobody was coming.  "I don't want to get-"

"In trouble?"  Rosa nodded.  "Oh, I understand.  But you need to understand that you'll be in way more trouble if you don't tell me.  Comprende?"

"Ambrose," the referee spoke quietly, like a kid whispering Bloody Mary into a mirror.

"I see."

"Can I go now?"

"One more question."  Fandango appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, pressing a white rag to the man's face.  "Does this smell like chloroform?"  The official crumbling to the ground was enough of an answer for him.  "Good."

Rosa looked at the cloth dubiously.  "Since when do you-?"

Fandango smiled thinly.  "Let's just say... old habits die hard."  He pulled his cellphone out from the open V of his shirt and send a message to Adam Rose, instructing him to find out where Ambrose had gone.  Message sent, he took Rosa's hand and they two tangoed down the hall.

(*)


The message came only a few moments later, that Ambrose was near the production area, filled with empty cases where equipment would be packed away until it was time to the next venue.

Fandango and Rosa angrily jitterbugged down the hall, making their way past various crates and gear until they spotted the lunatic they were searching for.  "You!"  Fandango spun Rosa out of danger, then pointed at the blond.  "You took something that belongs to me."

Ambrose looked confused for a moment, as if he didn't recognize him.  Then he shook his head.  "What?  You weren't using it.  You had your hands full.  Not that I can blame you."  Dean bobbed his eyebrows at Rosa, who batted her fan in response.

Fandango stomped his foot.  "I want my property back."

"Hey man, I'm not looking for trouble this close to the Rumble."  Ambrose reached into his pack pocket and tossed Fandango the ball.

Fandango retrieved the ball with the lousy number and whipped it at Ambrose's head with a smirk.  "Thank you.  I hope you've learned your lesson."

"Oh," Dean nodded, his eyes wide and guileless.  "Oh I sure have."

"You did it, Baby!"  Rosa clapped and threw her arms around her dance partner, kissing him deeply.

(*)


Dean shrugged and started to leave, making a mental note to pick up an extra roll of barbed wire.

The ball fell from Fandango's fingers as he settled his hands around Rosa's waist.

"Seriously?"  Dean looked at the couple, who were still entangled in their lip lock.  "Seriously?"

Dean crouched and picked up the number 25 ball and walked away, whistling.

THE END