Chapter Text
Another day, another crime scene. That was how Peter Jakes was living his life, much the same thing over and over. Blood, violence, chasing down criminals…
Thank God it was all pretend!
Playing a detective in one of Britain’s most popular crime dramas was hard work, but so very worth it. As well as being a good challenge after years of playing very different roles. He was perfectly happy with his lot, but still always searching for the next challenge.
And that’s how he ended up agreeing to take part in the next series of Strictly Come Dancing.
He had never been one to doubt his decisions, but this? This was different. He had barely even watched the show, let alone danced, especially not professionally. Yet, there he was, waiting impatiently for his time to take to the floor and find out who he was to be partnered with.
Put simply, he was bricking it.
Meanwhile, the professionals were opening the show with a truly mesmerising routine, as glitzy and glamorous as their outfits. All the women were beautiful. And frankly, the men weren’t too bad either. There was something deeply intimidating about that in Peter’s eyes, though he was in no denial about the fact that he was a handsome man himself.
“My, oh, my…” a voice from beside him whispered, with a distinctly American twang. Peter turned his attention to the brunette by his side. As glamorous as anyone on that floor, Hope Vaughn was an up-and-coming stage actress, on both sides of the pond.
“The dancing or the people?” Peter whispered back, grinning.
“Both. My, oh, my, I’ve never felt more bi.”
Peter snorted, in an attempt to supress his laughter. He knew exactly how she felt.
“You nervous?” wondered Hope, using his shoulder as an armrest despite him being a fair few inches taller.
“Nah.” Peter lied. “Just a bit of fun, innit?”
“Easy for you to say! You still have a career if you can’t dance.”
“Can’t you dance?”
“Eh. I got by at drama school. But I wanna go into musical theatre for real, I’m hoping this’ll help.”
“Well, good luck to you.”
Before long, they heard, “Please welcome your hosts, Dorothea Frazil and Tessa Knight!”
Hope’s eyes were alight. “We’re almost up.”
Peter’s, not so much. “Looks that way.”
But, of course, the hosts still had to introduce the show, so the two kept talking.
“Y’know, I’d always thought we’d know who we were gonna end up with.” Hope mused. “But they really do keep it secret, huh?”
“Yeah… Suppose it’s more exciting?”
“Oh, definitely.”
Peter could hardly stand the waiting anymore. But still, there was more to come.
“Please welcome… The judges!”
Ah, yes, the judges. A group more intimidating than anything else in that ballroom, as far as Peter was concerned.
Married couple Fred and Win Thursday, dance partners for decades. Recent ex-professional Ronnie Box, creator of controversies. And harsh but fair head judge, Reginald Bright. Peter had met them all, briefly. The only one he wasn’t nervous of was Win. Maybe the judges’ first comments would help.
“Ronnie, it’s the start of a brand-new series, the stakes are high, aren’t they? You’ve met our celebrities. What’s the general consensus? How do you think they’re feeling?” Dorothea asked.
“Well, I’m sure they’re bricking it. As they should be.” joked Ronnie. Was he joking?
“Oh, don’t start, they’re nervous enough! Win, our wonderful Win. This is your daughter’s second series as one of our professionals, of course. How do you feel about that?”
“Fred and I couldn’t be more proud of her. It would be lovely to see her get to the final!”
“It would indeed. Do you think there’s any chance of your son following in the family’s footsteps?”
Win simply chuckled. “No chance at all, I’m afraid. We’ve tried! We took him to Blackpool, the same as Joanie, we got him to do the competitions, but it just wasn’t for him. Still, he’s happy enough, so we’re happy for him.”
“Fred, what do you think?”
“Oh, yes, Sam’s a lost cause. And I know he’ll be watching this, while he eats cereal straight from the box. That’s right, I know what you’re up to, boy.” Fred teased, his expression barely changing. “Win’s quite right, we’re happy for both of them. But we won’t show Joan any favouritism, despite how many times she’s asked!”
“Glad to hear it! Finally, the man himself… Reginald Bright. Are you excited for yet another year of Strictly?”
“Always. It never fades, I assure you, even after all these years. I cannot wait to see what this year’s couples bring to this esteemed floor.”
“And neither can we!” Tessa chimed in. “So, shall we meet them?”
“I think we shall.” returned Dorothea. “Let’s bring on…”
“Our Strictly stars!” they chorused.
Hope grabbed Peter’s hand as the first few were announced. But when her time came, she sashayed down the steps like it was nothing.
Peter was right in the middle of the group. He was glad he wasn’t first, that was for certain. When it was his turn, he milked it for all it was worth. He stopped at the top of the stairs to slick back his hair, staring straight down the camera, then broke into a grin and made his way down to stand next to his new friend. The crowd seemed to be a big fan of him already.
He didn’t dare dance to the familiar theme music like some of the others were, he just stuck to clapping, until everyone was finally on the floor.
“Now, a huge welcome to Strictly to all of you!” Tessa began.
“Yes, you’re all looking fabulous, suitably apprehensive, and ready to start dancing!”
“Which you will be doing at the end of the show with your first group number, which our brilliant choreographers have taught you.”
“But for now, Tessa, wouldn’t you like to get to know our first few celebrities a bit better?”
“Oh, I’d love to. Especially that Peter.”
Laughing, Peter shot Tessa a wink. The crowd cheered.
“Down, girl. Let’s meet the first four, please!”
It was time for the VTs. Peter remembered filming his, in the chaotic blur that had been the weeks leading up to the show. He had put up a cocky (but hopefully charming) façade, as always. But he had never seen the other VTs. And, to his delight, Hope’s was first! For someone so young, she’d had quite an impressive theatre career, starting as a child actress. Yet she still came across as humble, her personality sparkling for every moment.
The next was Nick Wilding, there always had to be someone from a boyband. Though Peter would never admit it, he was a fan of the Wildwood. He was also perfectly charming on-screen, with a smile that melted the hearts of (mostly) teenage girls, but there was something just slightly off about him. Perhaps it was just the subtle air of pretention.
Speaking of pretention, after him came the experienced politician, Joy Pettybon. She did not seem to be too popular in the studio, if the weak applause was any indication. Peter certainly wasn’t a fan.
And the last of the four was celebrity chef Jim Strange. Peter had seen him on TV before, and he was no different on Strictly. He radiated approachability, and he just seemed to think everything was such fun! Though judging by the way he laughed at the idea of making it to the final, there was clearly a part of him that didn’t quite know how he’d ended up there. Peter could relate.
At last, it was time for the studio interviews, and the first pairings. Hope was first, still radiating confidence.
“Hope, you’re obviously no stranger to a sparkly costume, does Strictly feel much different to the theatre?” Dorothea asked.
“So far, a little different. I’m used to doing my own hair and makeup, for one thing! This is very welcome change.”
“I can imagine! Are you ready to find out who your leading man is?”
“Oh, as ready as I’ll ever be!”
“Don’t you worry, there’s not a single bad option up there since Ronnie retired.”
“I did not retire, I moved to the judging panel!”
“If you say so. Now, Hope, let’s see who you’re partnered with…”
A long, tense pause followed.
“It’s Joss!”
While the audience cheered, Joss Bixby made his way across the floor, seeming to practically glide, suave as anything. When he reached Hope, he twirled her around, making her laugh.
“Oh, I can already tell this is a wonderful pairing. Hope, are you happy?”
“I am delighted!” Hope gushed. “This man is a beautiful dancer, he might just make one of me!”
“We shall see.” teased Joss.
“We shall indeed! Now, it’s time for you two to go up and see Tessa.”
As they ascended the stairs, Peter only grew more nervous, realising what a long process it was going to be.
Next, of course, was Nick Wilding. God, was he smug. He seemed confident in his abilities… He was soon paired with Joyce Morse, a bubbly new professional, barely more than a teenager. Morse… Why did that name ring a bell? Anyway, Joyce was clearly thrilled with her partner, and Nick seemed only too happy to get close to her. Bit creepy, Peter thought.
Joy Pettybon was paired with Alan Jago, who barely even bothered to put on a fake smile as they were introduced. Oh, that was going to be an awkward interview upstairs…
And Jim? Well, he was paired with the one who would have been Jakes’ first choice. Joan Thursday. She was very well known already, in part due to her parents, but mostly due to her own talent. She had got her partner to the semifinal in her first series, and even the critics had to admit it was all down to her, and not the Thursdays’ influence. Most of them did, anyway.
Jim seemed both intimidated and relieved at the same time. Somehow, Peter understood. Still, the look on the man’s face amused him greatly.
Soon, it was time for the next lot of VTs. First, Guy Mortmaigne. What was he famous for? Being rich, mostly. He came from old money, and made his way to trashy reality TV, made by the rich, for the rich.
Next, Lila Pilgrim, a talent show winner turned popular singer. She was much more humble than Guy, thankfully.
Third in the group was Shirley Trewlove, a young up-and-coming crime writer. Peter was sure he’d been in an adaptation of something she’d written. She seemed an unusual choice for Strictly, but she was clearly happy to be there.
The last of the four was also an unusual choice. Max DeBryn, wasn’t he some sort of TV scientist? He came across as so serious in his programs…
Guy was paired with Diana Day, a gorgeous blonde who he was clearly a little too delighted with. And Lila with Ludo Talenti. Peter could swear a few audience members leaned forward in their seats when he appeared. He would have too, in fairness.
Shirley was paired with George Fancy, an extremely enthusiastic new professional. It was like watching a golden retriever on steroids.
Finally, Max was paired with Violetta Talenti, a woman who radiated elegance in a very similar way to her husband. A woman who was taller than Max. He’d probably need to wear heels when they danced, Peter thought, biting back a grin as they made their way upstairs.
At last, it was time for the final group. Only four celebrities left. Jack Swift, the footballer (there was always one), Rosalind Calloway, a high-profile opera singer, Monica Hicks, a soap opera nurse, and Peter himself. Oh, God, was he going to be last?
It certainly looked that way. Time seemed to be moving much slower, all of a sudden. Jack Swift was paired with Judy Vallens, Rosalind Calloway with Anthony Donn… So, that meant there was only one female professional left to be Peter’s partner. Mystery solved! But of course, they had to keep up the charade. Peter watched as Monica ‘found out’ her partner.
“It’s Claudine!”
What?
Hang on, Peter hadn’t even come out to the public, how did they know?
He kept his expression measured, despite the feeling of all eyes being on him. Who was he left with? Ah, the little ginger one standing like he had a stick up his arse. Brilliant.
Soon, Monica and Claudine had gone, and it was time for the reckoning.
“Well, Peter, you’ve spent your career playing criminals, and now catching them, so you’re no stranger to fast footwork… How’s your dancing?” Dorothea questioned.
Ah, she was setting up the perfect joke for him, and she knew it.
“Criminal.” Peter returned, grinning. His soon-to-be partner did not react.
The audience, meanwhile, was torn between laughs and groans.
“Well, let’s hope your partner can do something about that. Shall we see who it is?” Dorothea joked, looking around as if it wasn’t obvious. The audience definitely enjoyed that.
“Oh, I suppose we’d better!”
“It’s… Morse!”
Morse made his way over, with none of the flair seen from some of the others. What sort of a name was Morse, anyway? As a first name, it was certainly strange.
“Oh, I am surprised.” Morse deadpanned. Maybe he did have a sense of humour!
“I know, who could have possibly predicted this? Well, Peter, how do you feel about this pairing?”
Confused? Nervous? Slightly faint?
“Well… It’s like you said earlier, there’s no bad option. Unless there is, I suppose I’m about to find out!”
Again, Morse was not amused. At least Dorothea was!
“You’re in good hands, I assure you. Just be careful with this one, he’s tricky.”
Peter believed it.
“Fantastic, I look forward to it…”
“And I look forward to watching. You did say you wanted a challenge in your VT!”
“That, I did.” Peter had to admit.
“Do you still feel quite so confident?”
“Of course. Always.” Peter assured, grinning.
“Good! Now, I’ve taken up enough of your time, it’s time I handed you both over to Tessa! Watch out, Peter, don’t let her eat you alive.”
“No promises!”
The walk up the stairs felt endless, Peter’s mind racing so fast that the thoughts were hardly distinguishable. Still, they soon reached Tessa, and once again, the cameras were on them.
“Well, boys… How are we feeling?”
“Like I want to get dancing!” was all Peter could say.
“Good answer! Was this a partnership you expected?” Tessa asked, a very knowing look on her face.
What could he possibly say to that?
“Well, it was the only possible pairing.” Morse cut in. “The rest had been assigned.”
“Of course… It’ll be time for the group dance soon, Morse, any advice for your partner?”
“Just… Follow me.”
God, he was cocky with it, wasn’t Peter supposed to be leading?
“My way or the highway, as ever.” Tessa teased. “That is it, we’ve met all 12 of our lovely couples now, so let’s hope our mostly lovely judges approve!”
And with that, focus was back to Dorothea, while she asked the judges what the couples should expect.
“Pain. A world of pain.” was the first thing Ronnie said. “If it doesn’t hurt, you’re not doing it right. But it’s worth it.”
More ominous than helpful, Peter thought.
Win told them all to work hard and trust in their partners. Easier said than done. After that, Peter began to tune it out, more concerned with preparing himself for the group dance. For a start, he had rehearsed it with a woman, one significantly smaller than Morse. But he was a professional, and at least there weren’t any lifts. Yet.
It seemed like only seconds before Peter heard the cue to go on, hardly enough time to prepare at all. And with that, the dance began, a dizzying blur of colour and light, Peter not even getting a chance to look at what everyone else was doing. Except, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joss swing Hope through his legs and lift her up, which got a cheer from the audience. He didn’t have any big stunts like that. He felt like a drunk uncle at a wedding, the way he danced… And then there was Morse… How could anyone do such a happy routine with such a serious face? Keep smiling, Peter. Trust your partner.
Peter twirled him, just as rehearsed, he tried his best to keep Morse’s pace. Surely the dance couldn’t be faster than what he practiced…
Could he see Joan whispering counts and moves to Jim? And Fred taking notes? Oh, God, they’d made eye contact. Keep smiling. Keeeeep dancing. Play to the cameras, you know how to do that.
Oddly, the more Peter milked it for the cameras, the easier the moves returned to memory. He could relax, just a bit.
Joy Pettybon clearly could not. She was stiff, and Alan didn’t look too happy. That made Peter feel slightly better about his own abilities… Slightly. But just as he’d dare to hope, he’d catch sight of the real competition. His new friend, then Shirley and George… God, he wished he had half of George’s energy. There were so many talented people on that floor. You’re one of them, keep up the act. Stay cocky, never mind the dad dancing.
Somehow, he still found time to wink at the camera. Did Morse just give him a look for it? Just keep smiling, the routine’s almost over. 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and pose…
And he could breathe again. The hard part was over, for the moment. The episode was over.
Peter was only too glad to retreat to his dressing room and change back into his own clothes. The makeup could be left until he was home, he decided, he just wanted to get back to his room. Once he was changed back into jeans and a jacket, George, still in costume and still grinning, poked his head around the now-open door. “Hello!”
Peter turned, caught off-guard. “Oh! Wotcher.”
“You’re a good dancer, you know! Good with girls too, I bet.”
Peter smiled, with just a hint of smugness. “Well… I get by.”
“God, I’m jealous… Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Get Morse’s approval?” Peter snarked. “Any tips?”
George only laughed, perching on the countertop. “Can’t help you there, I’m in the same boat. And I’m pretty sure that boat is the Titanic.”
“It’s not just me, then?”
“Definitely not!” George assured. “But a few of the pros are on his good side, they might be able to help. His kid sister, for one.”
“Joyce!” came Peter’s realisation. How had he taken that long to make the connection?
“Yeah! You didn’t know?”
“I’m… Not big on the ballroom scene, mate.”
“Ah, yeah, course…. Joan could probably help you too. And Joss. They’ve been around for years, they’re used to him.”
“Used to him… Seems like he takes a fair bit of getting used to!”
“Ah, he’s alright, really.”
“A glowing endorsement if ever there was one.” came a voice from the doorway. There he was, the man himself, in a well-worn oversized jumper far from his glitzy costume.
“Sounds like you don’t do yourself any favours to get a better one.” Peter returned, casually, still smiling. George was frozen like a deer in the headlights, someone had to do something.
“Well, you certainly know how to make an impression.” Morse shot back. “I was only here to speak to you.”
“Go on, then.”
“We start tomorrow, 8am. A fresh start.”
“Don’t know how anyone can be fresh at 8am.” Peter joked.
“You’ll need to be.” was all Morse said.
And with that, he was gone.
George and Peter exchanged a glance. It would be a long process…