TANGO
Author: 1stRab-id/Rabid/Raeann
Characters: Buffy/Spike/Roscoe(aka Rocko)
Valenti
Rating: R
Beta Babes: Unavailable…so you can
just imagine…the horror…the horror…
Synopsis: This is the story of
Buffy’s attempt to return to dating and put her
craving for Spike behind her and how that plan
goes seriously awry…because
well…it's just SO wrong <eg>
Spoilers: Up to the Season 6 Eppy Bargaining…well not really…more like to “The
Gift”
because after that I went all AU…
help and there were all kinds of ramifications but
not the same ones we have in
S6! So…other different Ramifications…and I went
totally off canon and then I
got all depressed and quit. Actually this fic
was part of the B/S history that
led to the events in my fic
Cuore Della Notte…but I
wasn't able to finish the
massive thing (which also includes my version of
the Buffy resurrection)…Still,
I
liked this bit and wanted to resurrect IT!
Even if it's lame.
Disclaimer: Obviously everything
belongs to Joss because if it belonged to me I
would be in the bloody loop wouldn’t I? Anyway, all
hail the genius of Joss
Whedon and Co. and don’t sue me for being insatiable
in my longing for B/S
interaction.
“Though
I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance.”
William
Shakespeare from “A Winter’s Tale”
PART
FIVE
Buffy
had every intention of breaking up with Roscoe Valenti.
She
pulled on her clothes, wolfed down some breakfast and headed for his
apartment.
But as soon as she was standing on the threshold facing him, she
began to weaken.
And as soon as he touched her cheek, all of her resolve
evaporated.
"Buffy?"
the hottie purred.
"This is an unexpected and delightful surprise.
Please,
come in."
"Yes,"
Buffy's libido whispered, "come in! Come again! Come often! Oh, come
on…why are we still standing in the hallway?"
"I…that
is…Will…uhm…
against the swift current of her hormonal surge.
"…is…she's a witch and
she's…uhm…waiting…in the car. I
just wanted to tell you…uh…something…uhm…about
our date…later."
Roscoe
frowned at the flustered young woman.
"You
seem flushed," he said. "Are
you sure you're okay? You wouldn't like
to
lie down for a minute? I was just about to take a shower but I can
go tell
use the bathroom to refresh yourself." He stepped into the hall as if to usher
her inside and Buffy squeaked, retreating along the
passageway.
She
held up a hand, dropping down the first two steps on the stairs as she said,
"No,
not now…can't…much as I would love to do you…I mean…do that…I have to go…to
school…cause there's a test…of Big time Evil
and…I really don't have time for
naked showers…I'll see you tonight…okay…bye!"
Buffy
turned and pelted down the stairs in panicked flight. She didn't slow
until she was a good three blocks away. As she stood panting at the corner of
memory of Spike, holding and stroking himself. The resemblance was uncanny.
Different
hair, not a vampire…but still…in her fantasy, Rocko
was remarkably
similar in face and form to Buffy's undead
admirer.
Desire
prickled under Buffy's skin as she recalled the way Spike had moaned out
her name in the shower. No one else had ever said her name with such
soft
devotion, so it pulsated with need and love. It had made her feel like a
precious thing, fragile and powerful at the same
time. It made her feel
protected, like a treasured possession. Buffy wanted to hear Spike call out to
her like that again. She wanted to hold him in her arms and hear
him speak her
name.
“This
is insane,” Buffy grumbled, aloud. “There is nothing wrong with Roscoe.
He’s
smart, rich, handsome and totally normal and I am breaking up with him
because of Spike. First Riley and now this. How many great guys is that
peroxided pest going to cost
me? 'Use the bathroom' my ass," she
groused. "Why
can’t he just plot my downfall like a proper
vampire?”
But
her words rang false. This wasn’t
Spike's fault. Or not completely,
anyway. There was something about Roscoe that tweaked
at her Slayer senses.
Something demon-y. And it made Spike look like the guy you take
home to mother.
Buffy knew her emotional imbalance was a good
enough reason to investigate
further.
She headed for the Magic Box with a renewed sense of purpose.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Damnable
energy crisis,” Giles growled, as the Magic Box lights flickered but
failed to come back. “Rolling black
outs. How do they expect us to conduct
business or do research under these barbaric
conditions?”
“Yeah,
those power company executives have no respect for the Slaying trade,”
Buffy
remarked. "But, this time, I think someone hit a pole 'cause the phone's
out, too."
She placed the receiver back in its cradle and stared at it for a
minute, thinking about her duty to the world and to
her sister. Sighing, she
turned back to the group. Spike was with Dawn; so Dawn was safe.
“Luckily,
we have lots of candles,” Xander said,
cheerfully. Striking a match,
he started lighting up the inventory. “So no need to curse the darkness.
“Not
the unicorn candle, Sweetie,” Anya called, as she
locked up the cash
drawer. “It’s $10.95.
Use the standard 8 inch tapers…in green." She came out
from behind the counter and closed on the group
circle, confiding, "The green
never sells. It is puzzling. Red, Black, Blue…love, death, vengence…all selling
well…but nobody seems interested in money
spells." She shrugged and then asked,
perkily, "Who's hungry? I am going to walk down to the Deli for some
sandwiches
while we still have sunlight.”
“Thanks,
An,” Buffy said with a warm smile. Xander’s fiancée
was really trying
to fit in.
"
"Not
really hungry,"
"Uhm…yes, I'm buying and let's see," Giles mused. He absently fished his wallet
out of his jeans, removing two twenties and handing
the cash to the ex-demon, as
he ordered, “I'll have a Greek salad, a diet soda
and three of those little
brownies with the cream cheese filling…Oh, and
ask Song Lee if he has any Halva
in yet. I
know he was expecting a shipment and I was so hoping it would…"
Buffy
raised an eyebrow at her former watcher, causing Giles' train of thought
to derail.
He sputtered for a moment and then drew himself up, defensively,
saying, "Well…I have been out of town."
"Yeah,
Buffy," Xander grinned. "Cut Giles a break, those brownie things
are to
die for."
The carpenter sidled up to Anya, snuggled into
her hair and said,
"You
know what I want, honey." He paused to smirk before adding, "And you
know
what to get me for dinner, too. And if I know
having."
He noticed the others staring at him and gave a little embarrassed
laugh, "'having'…in the deli sense…not the sexy
suggestiveness sense of
'having'…because I…mmmm…
Anya kissed Xander,
effectively, stifling his mindless chatter.
eyes. A small smile played over her lips as she
exchanged a glance with
"Returning
to topic," Buffy prompted, tapping a stack of books. "My new and
possibly demonic main squeeze?"
“Yes,
yes, of course," Giles said. He
adjusted his glasses and studied the
bookshelves.
As he took a number of books down and passed them to
quite common in this dimension. For example, there’s the Gormeeani,
the
Belltourus and the
of the effect of this particular entity’s touch on
your bodily functions. The
inexplicable and nearly
uncontrollable…urges. I would say what
we are dealing
with, in this instance, is an Incubus.”
“Oooooo!”
her a look of hurt confusion and the redhead
quickly amended, “But only not
literally…just…in a researching sense.”
“Incubus?” Buffy asked, with a quizzical lift of
her brow. “I'm guessing…some
kind of dreaded math demon…similar to the Calculus?”
“Incubus
or Incubi,” Giles explained, with exaggerated patience, after only
briefly staring in a pained fashion at the
ceiling, “are an ancient species of
soul hunter. Or, more precisely, the male of the species. The females are
called Succubae or, singularly, Succubus. They feed on the life forces of other
beings. Assuming an irresistibly seductive or familiar
form to gain access to
their victims.
Once the victim is lulled into a false sense of security, the
demon attacks.
Few survive the creature's assault which by all accounts is
quite powerful.”
“Spike,”
Buffy thought, “Both seductive and familiar”
But
not irresistible she reminded herself.
She could resist Spike just fine,
thank you very much.
In fact, resisting Spike was something Buffy did
regularly, like a hobby. She could do it in her sleep. Which meant that there
must be more to this Incubus thing than looking like
Spike.
“Uhm, excuse me,” Buffy said, coming out of her reverie and
raising one hand for
everyone’s attention. “I was definitely under some
kind of spell. I could feel
myself go all squishy, like I lost my will to Slay.”
“It
says here,”
Incubi contains a compound which
induces a state of relaxed euphoria. The
compound is similar in molecular structure to
chemicals released in the brain
during…hhmm…oh, boy…”
“What?”
Buffy asked.
“Sex,”
passage. “It’s all about sex. That’s how the Incubus feeds, Buffy. It takes on
this familiar and irresistible form and then it
entices its victims into having
sex and…ZAP!”
"Zap?"
Xander inquired.
"It
turns all shapeless and tentacle-y,"
lover was holding. "Look, there's a
picture."
they could all see the ink-drawn image of an incubus
sucking the life from some
maiden of old.
"Holy
jellyfish, Batman," Xander commented. "Or UN-holy."
“And
you all think Roscoe looks like Spike?” Buffy asked the suddenly subdued
Scoobies. She was hoping someone would deny it but the
other’s simply nodded at
her.
a HUMAN Spike.
Like if Spike…had a job and a wardrobe and was a successful
member of society and not…you know…dead and evil and
all.”
“Why
human?” Xander asked, steepling
his fingers as if on the verge of great
insight. “Why not vampire Spike?”
“Hello?”
Buffy exclaimed, waving her hand in front of the carpenter’s face like
he couldn’t see her. She noticed the blank stare he and the other Scoobies were
giving her and snorted angrily. “I hope we all understand that the Buffy
train
no longer stops at that station,” she clarified,
pointedly, as she swept her
deadly gaze around the table. The others continued to look clueless. With a
puff of impatience, she spelled it out for them,
“Vampires plus sex equals…any
answer but Buffy!”
“Oh,
OH,”
Slayer’
voice, she continued, “Yes, oh, YES…Of course, we all know THAT! We
know you have no interest in Spiiii…that
is in any vampire at all…in THAT way.”
“Right,”
Buffy nodded, but her tone was less than emphatic as her traitorous
mind once again conjured up the feel of Spike
stretched out along her body. She
got a tiny thrill at the recollection of his weight
pinning her to the bed.
Desperate
to redirect her thoughts, she turned on Giles.
She pointed one finger
at him, chastising, “You know I blame you for
this. If you had just let me date
a few normal guys in High School I bet none of
this would be happening.”
“See
here, Buffy,” Giles returned, fiercely, as he glared over the top of a huge
leather bound volume of Yalasik’s
guide to Demonic Shape Shifters, “let’s not
lose track of the issue at hand. If this creature is planning to…” the Watcher
faltered, “…that is if it intends to…uhm…”
“I
believe the phrase you're searching for,” Xander
inserted, gleefully, “is
‘Bang
the Buffy Gong’”.
"Oh,
God," Buffy groaned, in mortification, lowering her forehead to the
tabletop and covering her blush with both arms.
“Yes,
thank you, Xander,” Giles growled, turning his glare
on the carpenter.
“But
I am fairly certain that was NOT the phrase I had in mind.”
The
older man's face softened as he addressed the Slayer again.
“This
is quite serious, Buffy," he said, gently. “If you are this
Demon’s…target,
you could be in terrible danger. You
have already admitted you
are powerless against its…well…for lack of a better
term…thrall.”
“So,”
Buffy sighed, raising her head off of the table, “What do we do? If I
can’t get close enough to touch it then how do I kill
it?”
“Why
don’t you just avoid it?” Xander asked. “Stay
away. Don’t let it touch
you, cancel any dates…you know, play hard to get?”
“That
might save me,” Buffy said, doubtfully, “but not the next victim.”
“And
it could always take on another form,”
Buffy
is onto it.”
Nodding
in agreement,
anyone. Any of us. Buffy wouldn’t know who her enemy was until
it was too
late.”
“According
to Yasalik’s,” Giles added, reading from the book,
“'The Incubus can
only be killed by its intended victim and then only
by using one of the four
elemental forces.'”
“And again? In English…” Xander
quipped.
“The
Elemental Forces,” Tara supplied, her fingers fluttering. “You know…Air,
Earth, Water or Fire.”
“So,”
Buffy summed up, “Only I can kill it and I can drown it or burn it or bury
it or…what?
Blow it to death?”
Xander opened his mouth to say something caught the
steely glint in Giles’ eye
and converted his saucy reply into a hasty cough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dawn
knocked, lightly, on the door to Buffy’s room.
There was no response. She
knocked again harder and waited to no
avail. Closing her eyes, she eased into
the bedroom.
“Spike?”
she peeped, nervously. The vampire might
not even be in the room for
all the sound there was in answer to her call. She tried again, “SPIKE?”
Fear
of seeing her sister's new boyfriend naked kept Dawn’s eyes closed as she
fumbled her way over to stand next to the
bed. She reached out tentatively,
jumping when her fingers touched cold
flesh. With heart-stopping suddenness, a
hand gripped her wrist hard and yanked her off her
feet. Dawn let out a single
shriek of surprise and pain as she flopped face down
on Spike’s chest.
“Bit?” Spike exclaimed, releasing her instantly. “What
the hell do you mean
sneaking up on me like that?”
"Wasn't
'sneaking'," Dawn corrected, as she tried to get off of him and out of
the bed without opening her eyes or using her
hands. She wiggled,
ineffectually, about as she muttered,
"I knocked and shouted and
everything…oof…it was like trying to
wake the dead."
"Funny,"
Spike returned. He watched the girl
flail around on top of him like a
fish out of water.
Periodically, he was forced to shift the more vulnerable
parts of his anatomy away from her indescriminate elbows and knees. Finally,
tiring of the game, he placed both hands on
androgynous sections of the teen's
torso and gave her a sharp shove toward upright. "Did you come in here to
practice your comedy act, then?"
“No,”
Dawn said, finding her feet abruptly on the floor, "It's Buffy!" She
scrambled away, stumbling blindly across the room,
as she explained, “She hasn’t
come home and it’s getting dark and the lights are
out again and the phone is
dead and....”
“Buffy
can take care of herself, Niblet,” Spike sighed. "You know that."
Peering
at the girl in the half-light, he noticed her eyes were still squeezed
shut and had to ask, “Why you got your eyes closed?”
“I…uhm…I thought you might be naked or something.”
“Did
you, now?” the vampire chuckled, softly.
And then he conceded, soberly,
“Well,
I am. But, you might have noticed,
during our recent dance…I have a
blanket over me. Nothing to
see here.”
“Oh,”
Dawn said, recalling the fuzzy barrier.
After a moment, she, cautiously,
opened one eye.
Spike smirked at her. He was
totally covered, right up to his
armpits.
Dawn noticed he was in Buffy’s spot under the blanket. She felt
surprisingly childish and
inexplicably defensive, "Well, it's just that, you
were naked before…when I came home. I saw you and Buffy in bed together. All
snuggly.
She said nothing happened…?”
Dawn
let the question hang in the air but Spike refused to take the bait.
"If
that’s what she said,” he shrugged, before reaching for a cigarette. Dawn
raised a clearly skeptical eyebrow at him as she took
in the crumpled pack of
unfiltered regulars, lighter and ashtray on Buffy’s
night stand. Spike regarded
her coolly.
He pulled a Camel from the pack with his teeth and tossed the rest
of the cigarettes back onto the table before
taking up his lighter.
“Yeah,
okay,” Dawn, finally, conceded, half-heartedly.
She glanced toward the
darkening window, “but then she went to see that
Roscoe guy.”
“She
went to see Roscoe?” Spike asked, sitting up, quickly. The blanket spilled
to his waist but he made no effort to retrieve
it. Dawn's innocence was the
last thing on his mind. He felt sick at heart. Plucking the unlit fag from his
mouth, he probed the wound. "She went to
him…today?”
“This
morning,” Dawn confirmed, with a nod. “And she hasn’t come home and it’s
getting dark. And
Spike,
what if he got mad when she broke up with him and cast a spell or…?”
“Right,
well! I guess that answers the question doesn't it?” Spike was
muttering, bitterly, even as Dawn rushed out her
worries. "Far as Buffy is
concerned, nothing happened last night…nothing at
all…" He wasn't listening to
his young friend and then he tuned in, sharply,
“'When she…', what? Niblet,
what was she going to do again?”
“She
was going to break up with Rosoce,” Dawn repeated.
She scowled, “Weren't
you listening?
Right before she left this morning, Buffy told me she was going
straight to his place to tell him it was over.”
“Over,”
Spike sighed. He sank back unto the bed,
feeling positively
rejuvenated.
He lit his cigarette with a dramatic little flourish and dragged
the nicotine into his lungs, releasing it slowly
before he continued, “And did
she happen to say why she was breaking up with old
Roscoe, today of all days?”
“No,”
Dawn snorted, in total exasperation, “but I thought it might have
something to do with the two of you in bed
together. 'Cause Buffy was all,” the
young woman dropped into a mockingly breathless,
sex-kitten character and placed
one hand over her heart as she quoted her sister,
“'Shhh, don’t wake Spike’.”
“You
have a dirty mind, Bit,” Spike accused, pointing at her with two fingers
and his cigarette.
He suppressed his smile, with some difficulty, as he
admonished, “You ought to be ashamed of
yourself. Now hop on out of here so I
can get dressed.”
“Are
you going to find Buffy?” Dawn asked, as she scampered for the door.
“What
do you think?” Spike replied, with a grin.
Dawn
grinned back. She felt the weight of
fear and worry lift off her chest.
Spike
wouldn't let Buffy die again. He would
find her and help her and then
everything would be okay.
END
THIS PART