Totally Buggin' (Buggy the Clown Live Action Fic)

The Circus Comes to Town

I spent the night in a golden bird cage, suspended from the ceiling by a thick chain. The room surrounding me was likely an old dressing room, based on the vanity on the far wall, but was filled now mostly with costumes and props. There was room enough in the cage for me to sit up or lay curled in a ball, and I alternated between the two positions trying to get comfortable.
I wasn't sure what time it was when Buggy came for a visit. A few of his crew members had darted in and out of the room looking for things, but no one had paid me much mind. Now the clown sauntered in with his signature smile. "Morning, sunshine!" he greeted enthusiastically. "How's it hanging?"
I glared at him through the bars. "What do you want?"
"Just to make sure you're getting the royal treatment," he said. He reached up and unlocked my cage's door with a golden key, then walked over to the vanity, leaving the door wide open. Apparently he wasn't too worried about me escaping.
Carefully, I lowered myself from the cage and rubbed my neck. "I could've used a pillow," I muttered.
"I'll have the servants bring one in right away, your highness," he said sarcastically, casting me a grin over his shoulder.
"I'm not that kind of princess," I grumbled. Buggy had turned back to the vanity, where he was going through the drawers in search of something. I glanced around the room, my eyes settling on the open doorway. I knew from yesterday that we were in a smaller tent adjoining the big top, and I figured I could find my way out of here easily enough, as long as I was faster than Buggy.
My eyes flicked back to him. He was still deep in his search, and this might be my only chance. I made a flash decision and darted towards the door.
I leapt into the hall and down the striped-canvas corridor as fast as my legs would carry me, when suddenly a hand wrapped around my ankle, causing me to hit the ground hard. My head bounced off the floor with such a jolt that it took me a moment to gather my bearings, and when I did I realized I was being dragged back into the dressing room feet-first. I clawed at the ground, searching for a handhold. No way he's that fast, I thought. I flipped myself over and shrieked; it wasn't Buggy dragging me back, but his disembodied hands. The white gloves were wrapped tightly around each ankle, pulling me as if by their own accord. I tried to kick them away, but in a matter of seconds I was back through the threshold with Buggy standing over me. "Hi!" he said in a sugary voice. "Where ya goin'?"
I watched in horror as his gloved hands released my ankles and floated up to rejoin the stubs of his wrists. I skittered backwards on the floor until my back was up against a wall. My heart pounded and I wondered if I was concussed. "What the hell?" I rasped.
"Oh this?" Buggy said with a grin, raising his arm. His hand popped off again and the fingers waved in procession before settling back on his wrist. "That's my little party trick. The chicks dig it! Well," he chuckled at the look on my face, "most of 'em, anyway."
A strained laugh bubbled up from inside me. I wasn't sure where it came from, but Buggy looked pleased to hear it. "C'mon!" he said joyfully, striding over and reaching out a hand. "I thought you'd like to see the show!"
I took the hand he offered cautiously, but it stayed firm on his arm as he helped me up. "Oh! I almost forgot," he said, turning to grab something fuzzy and blue off the top of the vanity. Handcuffs, I realized. "I know how you like the ropes, but I thought these might be more comfortable. Don't get too excited now," he teased as he pulled my hands towards him.
"I'm not," I snapped, but the blush already coloring my cheeks undermined me.
Buggy laughed. "Don't worry, Princess, your secret's safe with me."

Buggy led me to the big top, and I was hyper aware of his hand resting on the small of my back. He passed me off to a different crewmember with a final wink before disappearing backstage again. After that I was guided into the tent and surprised to see the bleachers were full of people. I scanned to see if any of my former crew members were among them, but the lights were too dim to tell. It wasn't until I was sat at the edge of the front row that I realized they all had shackles around their ankles.
The lights dimmed further and jovial music began. When I'd sat down I'd thought there may be another chance to escape with Buggy and his detachable hands distracted, but his crewmember remained next to me the entire time. Instead I settled into my seat and watched the show.
I'd never been to a circus before and, despite my predicament, found myself transfixed almost instantly by the whirls of color dancing like a kaleidoscope across the stage. I gaped in awe at the performers' graceful movements and gasped at their daring feats. I tried to stifle my reactions, but each act was more hypnotizing than the last. It was amazing.
And then Buggy came on. It was as though a vacuum had opened up where he stood and the whole room was being pulled towards him, myself included. I wanted to hate him, but his act had me spellbound; he was charismatic and funny in a way that commanded everyone's attention. I found myself genuinely laughing and his jokes and tricks, and each time I could've sworn his grin flashed my way.
When it was almost over, the whole ring filled with the different performers, dancing around in an explosion of movement. Buggy stood in the center, the sun around which they all orbited, and I realized with a start that his head was floating a foot above his body. Not only that, but his arms had come off in three parts each, joining the fray and circling him as though caught in aninvisible tornado.
The music came to its end and the company struck their final pose, Buggy's pieces all in their rightful spots and a grin stretched wide over his chiseled face. I had to stop myself from applauding with the rest of the audience, even though I knew theirs was spurred by the threat of violence. When the stage cleared and the lights came up it felt like I was waking from a dream.

"So?" said the captain with a mischievous smile. "What did you think?" He sat on an old dresser and swung his oversized shoes like a child. The coat he'd been wearing was gone, revealing lean, muscled arms poking through a shirt that looked as though it's sleeves had been torn off by hand. His hat was gone too, so just a striped bandana was covering his tousled blue hair.
I shrugged. My back was against the bars on the far side of my cage. "It was fine," I said measuredly.
"Just fine? Don't hold out on me, shortcake!" he said. "You loved it, right?"
I could hear the eagerness in his voice, sense how much the praise would mean to him. I leaned forward and stuck my face through two of the bars. "I'll tell you if you let me out of this cage," I said sweetly, looking down at him.
He hopped up from his spot and stood so his face was nearly level with mine. "How about you tell me and I'll feed you tonight," he quipped with a smile. "And I don't mean to the sharks."
His eyes seemed to twinkle as I gazed into them, and my resolve broke. "It was amazing," I heard myself admit.
"Yahoo!" he whooped in triumph, jumping and pumping a fist into the air. He turned back to me. "I knew you'd like it! And my act? How was I?"
His grin was so infectious I had to suppress one of my own. "It was great, okay? The best part of the show."
"Oh you beautiful—" his sentence was cut short as he grabbed the back of my head through the bars and pressed my face to his with a big sloppy muah!
I scrambled away from him, wiping the saliva from my lips. The cage swayed with the movement. "Buggy!" I exclaimed angrily, but he ignored me, still reeling cheerfully from the compliment.
"I knew you'd appreciate it!" he chortled, backing out of the door. "We're gonna get you a feast for dinner, whatever you'd like. And a big fluffy pillow!"
"What I'd like is to be let out of this cage! Buggy!" I called, but it was too late. He was already out the door.