SERIES TITLE  : Twelve Days of Christmas ;
CHAPTER/TITLE : Four calling birds
AUTHOR        : Black Widow
EMAIL         : bw@l...
SUMMARY       : Ladies night in Oxnard
SPOILERS      : None. 
RATING        : NC-17
PAIRING       : Gen Fic
DISCLAIMER    : The characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
                Enemy, Kuzui, Sandollar, and Greenwolf Productions, 20th
                Century Fox, the WB Network, and whoever else may have a
                hold on them. The situation is wholly mine, and I do
                not mean to infringe upon any copyrights.
ARCHIVE/DIST  : List archives. Anyone else, please ask.
NOTES         : This is pure fantasy that got somewhat out of hand in
                the writing and ended up being nothing like i had
                originally intended. Or maybe I just want to see all
                Irish dancers horse-whipped.

*

The four of them shrieked as their eyes devoured the naked flesh. One
nymphomaniac and three of the timidest creatures sat screaming as 200
pounds of pure muscle gyrated before their eyes. The one-time demon,
the two lesbians and their best friend's mother whistled and screeched
and hollered for all they were worth.

With the man's pelvis inches from her face, Willow squeezed tightly
and rhythmically on Tara's hand as his hips swung hypnotically back
and forth, back and forth. She in turn had had her hand pulled between
Joyce's legs, and the older woman was squeezing and squirming on her
fist as if there was no tomorrow. And Anya was bouncing up and down in
her seat screaming at the man for some of the action, and couldn't he
see that the dumb red-head had given up meat for a life of carpet
munching?

The music finished suddenly and the house lights came back on. They
laughed as they watched the obviously relieved boy make his getaway as
they relaxed and got their breath back.

"Not bad, but not as good as my Xander." Anya saw them staring at her
in disbelief. "Okay, so he was prime beef and Xander's slightly
spoiled chicken." She gave them her best glare and looked at Joyce's
lap. "At least I like men."

Joyce blushed deeply and let Tara's hand go. Willow looked at Tara and
smiled. "J-just be-because," Tara started, "d-doesn't m-mean."

"Oh, we have a healthy respect for men, but sometimes..." Joyce looked
into Anya's eyes. She could still see the lust for the young man and
wondered if she'd ever known what it was like to feel the touch of
another woman, and had to stop herself from reaching out to take her
hand.

"We wouldn't be here otherwise." Willow had an evil thought, "at least
we're not cheating on someone."

"Hey! Xander gave me the tickets." Anya was loyal to her man. Not
because Xander was good in bed, but because he was the only man she
could get into bed. And sometimes he was thoughtful, too. "He worked
here. They send him free tickets."

"Yeah, I still don't get that." Willow thought she knew everything
about Xander. They'd been best buds since forever... and she still had
bad dreams about him wearing Speedos.

"And he'd only throw them away."

Three pairs of eyes turned towards Anya as the lights dimmed and the
music started. They all knew Xander hadn't been able to hold down a
steady job since they'd finished school and... Willow started to feel
nervous.

"All right!" Anya shouted and Willow opened her eyes to see Tara and
Joyce grinning at her.

Still, she joined in the clapping and cheering as the guys went through
their routine, but she was too distracted to really enjoy what the
twins were doing once they left the stage and danced in front of them.
Tara and Joyce picked up her mood as well, which left Anya in heaven
as she got their undivided attention.

When the lights came back they waited for Anya to stop staring at the
curtains the boys had disappeared through before asking.

"So, Xander didn't exactly *give* you the tickets?"

"Well, indirectly. He tossed the envelope and I picked it up. It's the
same thing really."

"Oh, come on, what are the chances?" this was Joyce's first night out
in such a long time, and she was just glad Buffy had gone to see Angel
and that they'd asked her instead. "He's most likely at that Bronze
place wondering where you are."

Willow looked at Tara and Joyce, sitting there concerned, and Anya
sipping on her drink waiting for the next act. They'd had such a laugh
and a giggle when Anya had suggested it would be good for them to see
some real men, and she'd had such a hard time persuading Joyce to come
along... It wouldn't be fair on them... and Xander couldn't possibly...

*

The dancers came and went and Willow got back in the mood - especially
when the twins came back and Tara was forced to hold her down. And as
the night was drawing to a close Anya had eventually narrowed her
choice of dancer-with-the-best-bottom down to a shortlist of five - or
six; Joyce's mind was half on the pretty blonde boy and half on the
ironing she would have been doing, and Willow was kissing Tara's
bruised hand.

The lights went out and they waited for the music to start. Instead...

"And now, ladies, what you've all been waiting for. All the way from
Ireland..."

"Oh, it's a shamrock." Willow had wondered about the drawing on the
ticket.

"I th-thought it was a b-butterfly," Tara said and Joyce giggled.

They watched a faint light trail across the stage. The whole place had
gone completely quiet as everyone held their breath, waiting. Then the
light moved swiftly, became a blur and a loud =crack= made them all
shriek. With the crack there was a spark and the sound of tap-shoes
clicking.

The light moved across the stage and they waited... =crack= and sparks
flew from the whip and the tap-shoes.

Slowly the light moved, blurred and =crack= sparks flew. Slowly, then
again... and again... and again and again and again. 

"It's hitting the shoes," Joyce whispered. And as they watched the
pace quickened, the whip cracked, the sparks flew, and they could see
she was right.

Silence for few seconds and then the most almighty =CRACK= and they
all screamed and the shoes danced on.

The room was pitch black as the shoes danced around the stage. They
could follow the movement of the dancer only by the sound of his shoes
until the light blurred and =crack= sparks flew. But not from his
shoes.

Mesmerised, they followed the sound of the dancer as he moved quickly,
crying out as the whip cracked and the sparks illuminated briefly a
small patch of white.

As the dancers pace quickened so did the cracking of the whip. If the
dancers skill was amazing, for he danced with such pace and agility,
then what of the wielder of the whip?

And the whip didn't only strike in the same place. They could tell as
the dancer moved that some strikes were low by his knees, and some
high by his head.

The pace had become frenetic and =crack= =crack= =crack= the whip made
the sparks fly illuminating the dancer as his shoes began to spark on
the floor.

The audiences cries and screams turned to gasps and applause and then
cheers. Except for Willow who had gone deathly quiet. She knew how
hard it was to even make a whip crack, let alone handle it with
precision. And there was only one person who could have such stamina
and skill to know the dancers precise location.

A second light joined the first and she screamed for real when she saw
it was the dancer who held the second whip.

The two whips went =CRACK= in unison and the house lights blazed. As
everyone blinked the whips continued to =crack= and slowly they saw
the two hooded dancers dance.

As they saw the half-naked girl and the tall, dark-haired man the
crowd screamed and went wild. All except for the four who looked on in
surprise. Willow was numb, Tara couldn't believe what she saw and
Joyce had gone white with horror. Anya, confused, wondered what all
the bits of clothing were scattered over the stage.

As the diamond-tipped whip cracked against the small metal plates
stuck to her body they screamed again, too stunned to think. And
slowly, they took in what Anya had seen. Her whip flashed as the man
danced. With a =crack= and a =crack= the sleeve of his shirt hung
loose.

Wrist and elbow, elbow and shoulder; ankle and knee, knee and hip.
Slowly she undressed the man with her whip. Their horror became a grim
fascination, their shock dissolved into amazement at the pure skill of
the pair as they danced, as the young man's clothes became tatters and
fell to the floor revealing a taught young body and an amazing
tattoo...

As the dancers slowed and stopped, they too joined in with the crowd
as they applauded and whistled and screamed their appreciation. As the
dancers faced each other they bowed and span and, with one last
=crack= of their whips, they're loincloths fell to the ground.

Completely naked, the dancers fell into each others arms before
turning to acknowledge their audience who had literally been whipped
up into a frenzy.

"No w-w-wonder Xander throws the t-t-tickets away," Tara stated as she
stared at the man's groin.

Joyce and Willow nodded mutely in agreement; he was special after all.

"Oh, she is a natural blonde," and all three looked at Anya and
wondered as the dancers ran from the stage.

Continued in Five Gold Rings