May I Have This Dance?

By ArtikGato

Disclaimer: I don't own Excel Saga. I wouldn't mind owning his bishieness Lord Ilpalazzo...well, actually, I would because then Excel would murder me...

Author's Notes: I have no freaking clue where this came from. The best explanation I can come up with is that I found this kawaii Slayers pic (note: I don't own Slayers) with Lina and Gourry in formal wear, and somehow my mind wandered over to the Excel Saga portion and...voila! Warnings of fluffy kawaiiness ahead!

May I Have This Dance?

Excel eyed the invitation she had just been handed as if would come alive and try to eat her at any moment. Deciding that it wasn't a ravenous space beast or a creature from Hell or a creature she fought daily in The Pit, Excel looked over at Hyatt, confused.

"Why'd you give me this, Hatchan?" she asked.

"Well, Senior, Lord Ilpalazzo gave me the invitation and asked me to go with him to the party, but I'm feeling rather sick and I don't want to leave Lord Ilpalazzo without a date to the party, so I thought I would give the invitation to you instead," Hyatt explained. Before Excel could yell at her or attempt to murder her for the fact that she had been asked to a party by Lord Ilpalazzo, or ask her any other questions, she coughed up blood and sank to the floor, dead. Excel shrugged.

"May as well go! I can't keep Lord Ilpalazzo without a date, now can I?!" she exclaimed, half-rabidly.

After a precarious several hours, Excel had managed, how she nor anyone else didn't know, to clean up, "find" a nice-looking red dress, a pair of "nice" shoes (ie they had heels), and had somehow made her way to the party location without getting dirty, tearing/breaking her "borrowed" clothing (borrowed, "stolen", same difference!), or messing up her hair that Hatchan had taken quite a while on, braiding and unbraiding and such (due to the fact that she died almost every five minutes from the strenuousness of the endeavor). She HAD gotten lost and broken some things that belonged to OTHER people, but no-one was perfect!

Anyway, Excel was an hour late, but she'd finally made it, and she even remembered her ticket at the door, an accomplishment that would go up there with the rather small list of Excel's other accomplishments. Walking inside the huge mansion-like building, she immediately noticed that there were a LOT of people dressed similarly to her, though most of them were dressed much better than she was. There were also a LOT of foxy guys in tuxedos, but none held a candle or light bulb or burning match or burning ANYTHING to Lord Ilpalazzo, she noted. When someone approached her carrying a tray of food of some sort, she jumped for joy and surprised the hapless person by taking off with the entire tray. It was while she was gulping down the whatever kind of food it was on the tray that she noticed that this was apparently a party for the ignorant upperclassmen masses.

"What is his bishie-ness Lord Ilpalazzo doing at a party like this? I thought he preferred not to deal with the ignorant masses?" she thought aloud. Deciding that she wanted answers to her questions, whether or not she would receive them, she went in search of Lord Ilpalazzo, throwing the tray behind her and hitting some poor hapless woman in a yellow dress on the head and knocking her unconscious.

She skipped off happily to a balcony that overlooked a huge open area currently populated by ignorant masses, mostly the kind that were in tuxedos and standing around in large and/or small circles, talking about things. Excel easily spotted the silver-haired bishounen dictator with her trusty 'Ilpala-o-meter' (tm) that she had just happened to bring along with her. He was standing one of these ridiculous circles of ignorant masses, talking to other foxy men in tuxedos, but none were nearly as foxy as he, in his dark blue tuxedo, wearing "normal" glasses instead of his trademark orange glasses.

But gasp! Excel's wonderful, super-smart, super-sexy, bishie-licious Lord Ilpalazzo looked a little nervous! He constantly looked down at his watch, looked around, and seemed to mutter things to himself.

"Maybe he's looking for Hatchan or worried that she's dead or worried that she's NOT dead, or worried that the freaky silver-haired doctor and his weirdo nurse sidekick are dissecting Hyatt as we speak, or that a squadron of killer peng-I'D BETTER GO TELL HIM HYATT'S ALL RIGHT!! I don't want my Lord Ilpalazzo worrying over nothing!

She considered diving over the side of the balcony and landing headfirst on the floor below. There were several problems with this. For starters, the dress she was wearing wasn't technically hers, and even though it was red she didn't want to get blood on it. She also wasn't looking forward to the unpleasant feeling of splatting against the floor. Beside that, Lord Ilpalazzo had told her once "if you ever find yourself in public, try your best to be calm and DON'T act like your normal self", and since her normal self would not hesitate to jump off of the balcony, she figured that she shouldn't since that was what she would normally do and she didn't want Lord Ilpalazzo to be cross with her!!

The stairs it was! So, after bounding down the stairs and bowling over several people, mostly women showing WAAAY too much skin, she made her way out into the large open area, only to discover that it was actually a dance floor, as couples began twisting and twirling around her to the beat of music. As she neared Ilpalazzo, she realized that the group of men had dispersed and had been replaced by a group of women. Slutty, trashy, grotesque women who were hitting on HER Ilpalazzo! She stopped long enough to grasp the situation--the swarm of hoars was moving steadily closer to Lord Ilpalazzo, feverishly demanding that he dance with them, while the bishie dictator kept backing up (toward where Excel was observing the situation), politely declining and saying that he was waiting on someone. The slutty swarm seemed not to hear him, and kept pressing closer to his bishounen-ness, the epitome of sexiness.

'I'll save you Lord Ilpalazzo! EXCEL TO THE RESCUE!! Wow, Excel would make a good superhero!" she thought, and purposefully strode up to Ilpalazzo, gulping to steady herself before putting a hand on his shoulder, making him jump and turn to face her.

"May I have this dance?" she asked, trying to keep her voice as un-squeaky as possible.

The relief and surprise on Ilpalazzo's face was delighting to Excel, as she'd never seen him like this before, and it was a welcome change from the dark, stoic and angry faces he always made at her. It was an interesting but good mix, kind of like when you mix grape and strawberry cool-aid together, or when you eat an orange popsicle and a blue-raspberry popsicle at the same time.

"Excel?" he asked.

"May I have this dance?" "May I?" "DANCE WITH ME!!" echoed the cloud of hoary women behind him. He jumped again, remembering the sleazy menaces.

"Ilpala!" "Ilpalazzo!" they called.

Weighing his options carefully, he opted to go with Excel.

"Umm...sure!" he hastily exclaimed, grabbing Excel's arm and pulling her away/running away from the rabid squadron of fangirls. Excel inwardly squealed as she was pulled along by her one true love, the evil dictator Lord Ilpalazzo. He pulled her into a corner (FAR FAR AWAY from The Mob) of the dance floor and turned to her, still relieved and surprised but now a touch of anger appeared on his face.

"Excel, why are you here?!" he demanded

"Hatchan was feeling she told me to come in her place 'cause she didn't want you to not have a date although it looks to me like you could've gotten one easy from that swarm of hoars, sir," she replied.

"Oh. Well, I guess if Hyatt couldn't make it, it's all right..." Ilpalazzo sighed. "And for your information, I invited Agent Hyatt for the sole purpose of keeping those sluts away from me..."

"Oh," replied Excel. A few silent seconds went by, and Excel dared to speak again. "So, umm, won't those slutty fangirls think something is wrong if we aren't, well, dancing?" she asked, meekly. Ilpalazzo eyed her, half-glaring, but nodded.

"I suppose you're right," he replied. " you even know how to dance?"

"Of COURSE I know how to dance! It's one of the few things I do well!" Excel replied. He blinked, skeptically, but shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh well," he said, and sighed, holding out an arm to her. She happily took his arm and he led her out a little onto the dance floor.

"Lord Ilpalazzo, if you don't mind me asking, why are you attending a party of the ignorant masses? I thought you hated...well...people?" Excel asked.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation. I am here on reconnaissance for ACROSS."


"...intelligence gathering."


"An of mine, Kabapu, is supposed to be here, and if he's anything like he used to be, he's behind all of the politicians in this city, and he may even be behind the strange counter-operation that is working against ACROSS," Ilpalazzo replied. Excel allowed a second for her brain to process that.

She was at a loss for anything meaningful to say, so she stuck her hand high in the air in her customary salute, and shouted "Hail Il-"

Only to be stopped by Ilpalazzo, who frantically slapped one hand over her mouth and pulled her arm out of the air with the other.

"Don't do that in public! We're a secret organization!" he hissed, "and while we're here, just call me Ilpalazzo, okay?" Excel nodded. They suddenly noticed the people around them staring at them with inquiring looks on their faces. Fortunately, the music began for a new song at that exact moment, and Ilpalazzo managed to maneuver so that the hand he had used to pull her arm out of the air linked with one of her hands and the other went around her waist, to make it appear as if they were dancing. Excel barely managed to contain a squeal of delight, before taking the rare opportunity bestowed upon her to put an arm around her Lord Ilpalazzo, as he somewhat awkwardly began to lead her in a dance. Excel frowned, trying to keep up with his erratic foot movements.

"Lor--er, Ilpalazzo, I hope you don't mind me asking me this, and if you take offense to this you can drop me down The Pit as many times as you want when we get back to base, and I'll battle with as many sharks and crocodiles and denizens of the Underworld as there are down there, but can you dance?" Excel asked. It was Ilpalazzo's turn to frown.

"Of course I can!" he protested. Just as he said that, he stumbled, causing them almost to fall over, but Excel barely managed to catch them and keep them on balance. It was at that point that she noticed that Ilpalazzo was leading the two of them in a wild semi-octagonal shape, while all of the other couples were traveling in elegant squares and triangles and Q's and semicircles. She sweatdropped. "Okay...I can dance a little," he admitted. She sighed a little, but it was a more content sigh than an exasperated one.

'I can FINALLY be of use to his bishie-liciousness Lord Ilpalazzo!' she mentally shrieked.

"Okay, here's what you do. Step left," she instructed, and after a few seconds he hesitantly took a step to the left. "Then back to the right, and right again. Then step forward, and back, and back again. Then you start all of that over again. Do you have it, L...Ilpalazzo?" she asked. Ilpalazzo blushed (a/n: Yes, Ilpalazzo BLUSHED) in embarrassment.

"No..." he admitted.

"Okay," she replied, repeating it again, and again, until he finally got the steps down, and they were elegantly twirling in shapes other than wild octagons. Ilpalazzo was, in short, amazed by this.

"Excel, I didn't know that you could dance-" he started, but she cut him off.

"Here comes a tricky part. Step back, step back..." she continued to lead him in a series of seemingly random steps. "Right, no right, back, back..."

They continued like this, her whispering steps into his ear and him (mostly) stepping where he needed to step, until she suddenly said "Dip me,", and Ilpalazzo somehow managed to oblige, just as the music stopped. She was grinning widely, and he was actually smiling down at her as well, making her heart nearly melt. When he pulled her back up and their faces were less than half an inch apart, the thought "kiss!" actually flitted through both of their minds, but they were interrupted by the sound of... clapping? They sprang apart like scalded kittens, both of their cheeks stained crimson.

They were suddenly surrounded by several men in suits, trailed by women that seemed to go along with them.

"He-ey! Ilpalazzo, where'd you get this beauty from?" they asked, indicating Excel. She blushed deeper than she had been.

"Beauty?" she asked herself.

"Yeah, she's really cute!" another one exclaimed.

"She' co-worker," he answered, carefully.

"Co-worker, eh? So, is she taken?" asked one of the men who didn't seem to have a woman trailing behind him. Excel flushed.

"These men are complimenting me? Me? And did that blue-haired one just...?"

Ilpalazzo thought about this for a second, almost glaring hatefully at the man who asked that, before carefully snaking an arm around Excel's waist (much to her surprise) and pulling her closer to him.

"Yes," he answered, with a dangerously acid tone to his voice that Excel had only ever heard directed towards her on one of Ilpalazzo's particularly bad days when she had said something extremely inappropriate AFTER climbing out of The Pit. In short, this surprised her just as much as Ilpalazzo's apparent possessiveness of her that she hadn't known existed. The men snapped their fingers or exclaimed "darn!", beginning to disperse, but not the women. One woman in a green dress approached Excel.

"You certainly can dance. Ilpala here may have been leading," she started, Ilpalazzo flinching at the nickname she gave him, "but I could tell that you were the one in control the whole time. Fabulous job," the woman in green finished, holding out a gloved hand to Excel. Excel shook it, grinning toothily at her.

"Thanks a lot, ma'am! People don't praise me much for anything, so I appreciate that!" she exclaimed. The woman looked a little shocked. The other women swarming around her nodded.

"As good as you can dance? I'm more than surprised at that. Do you dance a lot?" the woman asked. Excel shook her head.

"Nah, I don't have much time what with, job," Excel replied, a little forlornly, Ilpalazzo noticed.

"Note to self: try to involve dancing in the next mission," Ilpalazzo found himself thinking.

"That's a real shame," the woman replied, and with that said her goodbyes and left Excel with a few encouraging words, taking the swarm of other women with her, leaving her alone with Ilpalazzo on the now sparsely populated dance floor. The orchestra was in the process of deciding on the next song. Ilpalazzo turned to Excel, coughing a little.

"Yes, I'm quite surprised at your dancing skills myself, Excel. I would have just made a fool of myself out there if it weren't for you, so thank you," he said. Excel's brain almost went into "super-happy meltdown mode" at those words. Ilpalazzo was praising her. Ilpalazzo was thanking her! Could life get any better than this?

After a few more moments of silence, Ilpalazzo finally held out an arm to her.

"I'm thirsty. Care for a drink?" he asked. She, of course, gladly accepted. Heck, if he had offered her a mangled animal carcass, she would have accepted! Not that a mangled animal carcass was all that really depended on the animal, and how badly the carcass was mangled, and how long it had been dead...Excel was starting to crave meat...

As Ilpalazzo led Excel over to the bar where a line of alcoholic beverages were being served, he took the time to notice just what she was wearing. Oh, he had been aware the whole time that her attire was not that of a normal ACROSS agent or even a normal member of the ignorant masses, but the same kind of attire of the women populating this party. The only difference was the dress she was wearing looked ten times better on her than it would have on anyone else at this party. The color really did look astonishing on her, he noted, making her green eyes seem even brighter than usual (if that was possible) and her blonde hair seemed much more...well, blonde (and she had her hair down, which he decided he preferred over her braid any day). The dress itself showed off the curves that he was well aware she possessed, but had stopped paying attention to the instant Hyatt had joined ACROSS. She was still a rather scrawny person, due to a lack of/deficiency in food, but somehow that only served to make her that more appealing at the moment.

And, she could only get prettier from here, Ilpalazzo remarked dryly to himself, as he took his first drink of a brightly colored alcoholic beverage with a name he was sure he couldn't pronounce. Yes, the night could only get better from here...

Two dances and five oddly colored, highly alcoholic beverages later, Ilpalazzo discovered that neither he nor Excel could hold their liquor very well. They managed to keep their dignity intact as they stumbled out of the mansion, laughing at seemingly nothing. Ilpalazzo had managed to get the information he was after from Kabapu, but he couldn't remember what that information was at the moment. Not that he particularly cared. Being drunk didn't particularly appeal to him, but it was a damn good excuse for Excel to be half-draped over him as the two of them drunkenly stumbled through the empty streets of F-City toward the secret headquarters of ACROSS, rabid laughter and hiccups cutting through the mostly silent night every once in a while.

"Note to self: never drink anything that is colored turquoise again," he thought, and hiccupped, making Excel burst into a fit of maniacal giggles, which in turn made him laugh. Human beings really are amused by stupid things when drunk...

"HAIL ILPALAZZO!" Excel shouted, cheerfully, much more cheerfully than she customarily did.

"-zzo…" Hyatt chimed in, before coughing up blood and slumping to the floor, dead. Ilpalazzo looked up and barely repressed a grin.

"Hello Hyatt…Excel," he replied.

"I'm pleased to report that yesterday's mission was a success, in that we didn't horribly fail like usual! The yaks were all successfully returned to their motherland and everyone was happy, except the poor eclectic kid who loved the herd of yaks that we stole from him dearly!" Excel shouted.

"Good, Agent Excel. I have a new mission for you today. But first…please wake up Agent Hyatt," he said. She nodded.

"Hey, Hatchan! Hatchan! HEY HYATT!! WAKEY WAKEY!!"

"Yes Senior Excel?"

"Lord Ilpalazzo's giving us our new mission!"


"Good. Now then, for today's mission, you are to infiltrate a popular anime convention dressed as popular characters, in order to observe the way a particularly strange group of ignorant masses calling themselves "otakus" conduct their lives." Ilpalazzo ordered.
"HAIL ILPALAZZO!" they shouted in unison. As they turned to leave, Ilpalazzo cleared his throat.

"Agent Excel? I would like to speak with you a moment," he said. Hyatt grinned knowingly, and trotted out of the secret underground headquarters, leaving Excel behind. A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around Excel, and a pair of lips she knew belonged to her hyper-gorgeous bishie-licious Lord Ilpalazzo kissed her neck and jaw line. She smiled as he began to speak.

"How about, before the mission…"

Thirty minutes later, she stumbled quite drunkenly out of the underground headquarters of ACROSS, clothing and hair rather disheveled and a happy smile on her face.

"I'll NEVER get tired of that!" she exclaimed, as she made her way over to wake up/revive Hyatt, straightening out her clothes.


How did you like it? Too out-of-character? Too fluffy? Comments, chibi bishounen and constructive criticism welcome, but flames will be eaten by Bob, the homicidal Puchuu. (points to a rabid looking Puchuu holding a butter knife) That is all. And as for Excel's superior dancing ability…everybody's good at SOMETHING, right? I assume Ilpala can't really dance from the way he acted in the "Excel Saga Musical" thing in Episode 26, and while Excel is rather clumsy, I think she could be a rather good dancer.