allyndra | Fic: Disney Magic (Spike/Xander)

So yesterday, on my way to the bank, my tire went flat. As a pancake. I called work to let them know I would probably be a little late getting back, and my coworker said she would see if someone could come help me. (cue silent grimacing at the assumption I couldn't take care of it myself) I went into the bank to cash my check, since I would now need that money to buy a new tire, and when I came out, one of the guys I work with was jacking up my car. Very nice of him except he PUT THE JACK IN THE WRONG PLACE. He completely scrunched the bottom of my car, and he just shrugged and said, "Sorry, I thought that's where it went." Arrrgh! The tire place down the street couldn't fix my tire, so I had to pay $70 for a new one. Grrr!

To cheer myself up, I wrote fic. It helped, and then I got to go to Can't Stop the Serenity, and the joy of watching a movie I love with other fans made me feel so much better. Today, I'm in a better mood, and I thought I'd share the fruits of my frustration.

Title: Disney Magic
Author: Allyndra
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: PG
Warning: Human AU. At Walt Disney World. You may spontaneously start singing Disney songs. Consider yourself warned.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and unless Joss starts accepting craft supplies and old stuffed animals as payment, I'm not likely to own them in the future. I also don't own Walt Disney World, in case you weren't sure.

Summary: A lot of people get over the "magic" when they've spent a few shift sweeping up trash. Xander still loved it, though.

Xander didn't like to admit it out loud, but he knew full well why he worked here. Willow made loud noises about taking down the corporate hegemony from the inside and quiet noises about health insurance, and Buffy was clearly in this for the tips and the hot guys on vacation, but Xander ... Xander was here for the rides.

He had a schedule worked out for his favorites. Wednesdays he rode Space Mountain, laughing as the train zipped around the curves and ducking away from the support structure even though he *knew* he couldn't hit his head on it. Thursdays were for the Teacups. People stared at him, a lone adult spinning his cup as fast as possible, aiming for a speed that would leave him unable to walk straight afterwards. On Fridays he went on Splash Mountain, hurrying to get there during the parade when the line wasn't as long. He emerged wet and grinning like a loon, humming the "How Do You Do?" song for the rest of the day. Saturdays he trotted over to Mickey's Toontown Fair and rode the Barnstormer. He never minded waiting through the queue for that one; he liked listening to other people figuring out the visual puns (Ha! Egg plant!) almost as much as he liked riding the kiddie coaster. Sunday was the last day in his working week, and Xander believed in saving the best for last. That's why he always, *always* rode the Haunted Mansion after work on Sunday afternoon.

That's where Xander was heading now. He'd gone down to the locker room to change out of his costume, washed off the worst of the yuck he'd accumulated throughout the day, and changed into street clothes. A short trip through the tunnels (yes, he knew that the Utilidors under the Magic Kingdom weren't really tunnels, but frankly he thought 'Utilidor' was the stupidest word ever invented) and he was up the stairs and out the door behind the Columbia Harbor House. Xander stepped out into the park, and it didn't matter that he'd just spent his entire shift sweeping the streets and emptying the trash right here in Liberty Square. This place was still magic.

Xander smiled at a little girl in a sparkly blue Cinderella costume and skipped out of the way of an oblivious woman pushing a stroller. The moment he walked past the carriage in front of the Mansion, the one that was supposed to have a ghost horse, he felt the weight of the work week rolling away from him. He felt light and free as he joined the queue, rereading the tombstones that he'd memorized weeks ago and listening to the tourists complaining about the humidity and the price of food.

When he got to the entrance, Xander spotted the greeter and broke out into a delighted grin. He had favorite cast members at most of his regular attractions; there was the tall girl at Splash Mountain who always let him sit at the front of the log and the man at the Barnstormer who greeted him by name every week. Xander's favorite at the Mansion wasn't like that. His nametag read 'William,' but Xander didn't put much stock in that. The policy was that your nametag had to show your first or middle name, but there was no rule that you had to go by that name in your personal life. His own nametag said 'Alexander,' after all, and no one had called him that since he was five. He'd just gotten sick of the obnoxious comments he got when he wore 'Xander' pinned to his shirt ("Is that your real name?" "Xander, huh? People name their kids the craziest things.") Buffy's nametag said 'Anne' for the same reason, but Willow defiantly wore her actual name.

William never gave any indication that he noticed Xander's repeat visits, never showed him any kind of special treatment. Xander liked him anyway. Partly it was that he was total eye candy. While not tall, he had a presence that made you notice him. His hair was bleached to a shade of blonde that could not possibly fit within the appearance policy. It should have looked ridiculous with his costume, but somehow the formal, green morning coat and funky waistcoat worked with the oddball hair.

Other than his extreme hotness, the thing that made William Xander's favorite greeter was the way he delivered his spiel. Mansion cast members were supposed to be a little macabre, a little rude, which most of them translated into a monotonous delivery style that was meant to be either zombie-like or menacing. William was different. He was macabre and rude, but his blue eyes held a hint of glee, and a mocking smirk seemed to hover over his lips at all times. And he had the best British accent. There was something dirty about the way he said, "wretched bodies" that made Xander shiver all over.

William curled his tongue up behind his top teeth after doing the "Gather together in the dead center of the room" line, and Xander pretty much lost the ability to think straight. He was so caught up in pleasant thoughts about William's mouth that he missed the entire section with the stretching portraits. He was jarred back to himself by the thunderclap that revealed the body hanging above them. Xander grinned as several of the guests let out little screams or gasps. He loved it when people were willing to get caught up in the illusion. The sliding door opened and the people who had been standing in front of it jumped, then tried to pretend they hadn't. Xander's grin grew. He joined the herd moving through the queue toward the Doombuggies.

The line moved quickly enough that Xander didn't have to engage in his favorite wait-time pastime of eavesdropping on guests' conversations. When he reached the boarding area, a dark-haired cast member sneered at him and demanded to know how many people were in his party. He silently held up one finger and received an extra dose of sneer for being loser enough to ride alone.

"Watch your step," she ordered in a tone that made it sound more like she was hoping he would fall from the moving platform to a grisly death by Doombuggy. Xander shook his head at her attitude as he scrambled into his seat, lifting his arms for the bar to settle around him. That girl took theming a little too seriously.

Still, it was a tiny bit lame to be riding alone. On the E-ticket rides it got him on a lot faster than if he'd been part of a group, but Xander wished he had someone to snuggle against in the darkness, pretending to be just scared enough to cop a feel. Xander sighed. He refused to be depressed in the Mansion. It was his happy place. He distracted himself by peering into the darkness around Madame Leota, picking out the strings and rods that kept the glowing instruments floating around her. That was one thing Xander absolutely loved - knowing how the attractions worked. Some people thought it destroyed the illusion, but it just made Xander admire the work that went into the attractions. There was a magic to it, taking machines and projectors and paint and using them to create a different world. It wasn't a magic he could do, but he was stupidly grateful to be able to ride through it and help maintain it.

The Doombuggy moved on and Xander stared hard at the ghosts in the banquet hall, catching the faint reflection that revealed how the illusion of translucent, moving ghosts was created. The clues to the apparatus were as intriguing as always, and the graveyard cheered him up with its familiar absurdity. By the time he was ready to disembark, Xander no longer felt the need to mope. He did look around to make sure the rude, dark haired hostess was no where nearby when he stumbled on the moving platform at the exit, though. His newly regained good mood probably wouldn't stand up to another batch of her scorn.

He stopped for a moment to pick out his favorite name on the mausoleum at the exit (Paul Tergyst), then joined the flow of people exiting the attraction. Once he was out on the pavement, Xander broke free and went to lean idly over the railing, staring blindly at the lake as he tried to decide what to do next. The river boat was just pulling up. Since he didn't have anything better to do, Xander boarded it. He watched the water ripple away from the side of the boat while his mind ran over his options. He could go to the Hall of Presidents and take a nap in the back row until Willow got off work. But that was fairly boring, and he usually saved it for days when he really needed the air conditioning. Today was a beautiful day, no matter what the tourists said about the humidity, with a soft breeze and big fluffy clouds in the sky; Xander hated to waste it hiding out in the refrigerated stuffiness of the Hall of Presidents. His stomach grumbled and Xander allowed that to decide him. A snack beat out animatronic politicians any day.

The boat made its slow circuit back to the dock, where Xander hopped off and rejoined the flow of humanity. He wasn't sure what he wanted to eat, so he let himself be guided by the crowd and found himself pulled toward Frontierland. That was fine with him. Frontierland had the french fry cart that sold McDonald's fries, the smoked turkey leg cart, and the- Aha! The churro vendor. The sugary goodness of a churro was exactly what he needed to get through the day. He waited his turn and paid the slightly exorbitant price for his snack, then wandered toward Splash Mountain, nibbling and watching the logs come sluicing down the falls.

"So you're one of this lot that hangs out on the property all the time, then?"

Xander spun around, almost choking on his churro. William from the mansion stood just behind him, wearing jeans and a black tee shirt that looked even better on him than his costume had. He must have changed and come back up into the park the moment he'd gotten off work, just like Xander had. "Don't do that!" Xander protested, trying not to blush. "If I have a heart attack here, I don't even want to hear the urban legend people will make up."

William just smirked, looking stunning but oddly out of place here in the daylight, surrounded by jostling people. Even when Xander had pictured William doing naughty things with his tongue, he'd never actually pictured him outside of the Mansion.

"Didn't know you were so jumpy," William said, raising a mocking eyebrow. Xander had somehow assumed that the smirk and the eyebrow thing were part of his onstage persona, but they looked pretty darn natural. "You never so much as flinch at the Mansion."

"Yeah, well. I know what's coming at the Mansion," Xander said defensively.

"Reckon after the first fourteen times, most people would figure it out," William agreed. He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops in a pose that delayed Xander's brain from processing his words for a moment. Then ...

He did some quick mental math. Xander had started this work schedule three and half months ago, and had begun his Sunday afternoon Mansion rides right after. Today was his fourteenth Sunday. He met William's eyes in disbelief, surprised at the hint of vulnerability he saw there.

"Well, I'm a quick study," Xander told him. "It doesn't take me too long to figure things out." He looked away from William's eyes, which were very, very blue, before he could say anything stupid. He stared up at the plunging log full of screaming people pouring down Splash Mountain as though it were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

They stood there on the bridge, pretending to watch the ride while sneaking glances at one another. After a few minutes Xander remembered his churro and continued eating it. It was long and tubular and delicious; he should have been able to eat it suggestively. But Xander had flunked suggestiveness (Really. Buffy had insisted on tutoring him in flirting after he got dumped by a busser from the Crystal Palace.), so he settled for not getting too many crumbs on his shirt. He ate the last bite and crumpled the paper it had been wrapped in, shifting awkwardly and stealing another look at William. Who was looking right back at him. Caught!

"I'm Xander," he blurted out. He switched the ball of paper to his left hand just in case William wanted to shake, but the other man only gave him a nod.

"Spike," he said.

Xander stared. "Spike?" he squeaked disbelievingly. "No wonder you didn't put that on your nametag."

Spike grinned at him mischievously. "Would have if they'd let me," he shrugged. "You loitering around for the fun of it, or are you meeting someone?" he asked casually.

"I'm just hanging out until Willow gets off work," Xander answered, distracted by the way the sun was bouncing off Spike's absurdly blond hair.

"Willow?" Spike repeated, his voice flat. "Girlfriend?"

"What?" Xander dragged his eyes away from Spike's hair and frowned at him. It took a moment for Spike's words to his brain. "No! No girlfriend. Roommate." God, he was talking like he'd suddenly become Tarzan. "I share an apartment with my friends Willow and Buffy. It's kind of like Three's Company, except Jack was only pretending to be gay," he explained. "Willow has a car, and waiting around for her is way better than taking the bus."

The tension around Spike's eyes relaxed, and he smiled. It wasn't a smirk or a wolfish grin - it was an honest, happy smile. It took Xander's breath away. He smiled back.

"I, um, I know the line's long, but I've got some time. You wanna go on Splash Mountain?" Xander asked before he lost his nerve.

Spike looked at the ride contemplatively. "The long queue for this one has always put me off," Spike said. Xander was about to tell him it was okay, that they didn't have to ride it, but Spike kept talking. "Reckon you can play tour guide for my first time? Show me the hidden Mickeys and all?"

"I can do that," Xander promised, beaming. He led Spike across the bridge and to the entrance to the queue. "Have you ever seen the movie Song of the South?"

The general description of the movie and bitching about Disney's failure to re-release it took them through the outside queue. As they moved inside, Xander told Spike about the flashers who raise their shirts for the camera on the descent from the Splash Mountain in Disneyland, and about the difference in seat design that made flashing harder to accomplish here. Spike in turn told him about the compromising positions he'd found couples in on the Doombuggies. They talked all the way through the line, and Xander thought he'd never seen a wait for Splash Mountain pass so quickly.

When they got to the staging area, the host asked him how many were in his party, and Xander wiggled two fingers at him, ridiculously pleased to tell someone, even an anonymous cast member, that he was riding with Spike. They sat together on the damp plastic seats, coasting along through the swamp of animatronic creatures. Xander faithfully pointed out the hidden Mickeys, and Spike had the grace to look interested.

Xander had been careful to stay on his side of the seat, not wanting to make assumptions about how welcome his touch might be. But when their log started to climb the dark tunnel to the top of the mountain, with little animatronic vultures staring down at them threateningly, Spike reached over and grabbed his hand. Xander thought about telling him that it wasn't too bad, that they still had ages before the big drop, but he kept his mouth shut. And he kept hold of Spike's hand.

A few minutes later, when they were poised to make the drop, Xander shot Spike a challenging look and raised his hands in the air, taking one of Spike's with him. Spike shook his head at the implicit dare, but he raised his other hand. They seemed to hang in the air for a fraction of a second, suspended above the waterfall and holding onto one another, and then they tipped over the edge. The couple behind them screamed, but Spike and Xander laughed the whole way down.

They were slightly soggy when they got out, but Xander didn't mind a bit. He'd had to drop Spike's hand to climb out of the log, but the sparkle in Spike's eyes as he talked about the ride made up for it. He played it cool, admitting that the final drop had been "brill," but dismissing the rest as "kid's stuff." Xander refused to be fooled.

"It's a nice picture," he said. Even as he spoke, it flicked off of the screen and was replaced by one of a more current batch of riders.

"It is," Spike agreed. "If they weren't so bloody expensive, I'd buy you one for your scrapbook." He sneered at the imaginary scrapbook, but his hand found Xander's again and slipped into it.

Xander fluttered his lashes at him. "Oh, no. Not my scrapbook. I'd put it on my wall, right next to my N'Sync poster," he gushed. He maintained the expression of vapid fluttering for a moment before it became too silly for him. "Do you want to see how long the line is for Big Thunder Mountain Railroad? Or we could go make out in the Hall of Presidents and scandalize the old people." He said it jokingly, but his heart was beating fast and he could feel his face flushing.

"Much as I ought to brush up on my American history," Spike said, "I really don't want to get sacked." He sounded almost wistful. "How 'bout Pirates of the Caribbean? I keep meaning to ride that one."

"You've never ridden Pirates?" Xander asked, appalled. "That's an abomination. We can't have that." He pulled Spike along toward Adventureland. He kind of wished Spike had taken him up on the Hall of Presidents idea, but he didn't mind too much. A slow, dark ride with Spike? Sounded a lot like magic to Xander.

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noandwhere.livejournal.com

Haunted Mansion is my favorite too! Though I've only been to D-Land once, and that was 20 years ago, so I'm sure things have changed. *g*

This was a lot of fun! And I loved this description of Spike:

William was different. He was macabre and rude, but his blue eyes held a hint of glee, and a mocking smirk seemed to hover over his lips at all times. And he had the best British accent. There was something dirty about the way he said, "wretched bodies" that made Xander shiver all over.

Perfect! I really hope to see a sequel to this. *wink wink nudge nudge*

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