Dance Partners

Dance Partners.
By: Lady Jade

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. I’m really poor. My last pair of Gym socks died last week. You can’t even sue me for those anymore. Ok. YNM belongs to its prospective owners. I do not own any of these characters and I do not make any profit. But the fic is original, and mine. Ok. Next. This is a Yaoi ficcy. Yup. Boy boy love. If you do not like it, do not read it. If you flame, you will be HORRIBLY mocked and tormented by me publicly. You don’t want that. I, having been the butt of it most of my life, am EXTREMELY good at public ridicule :) Anyways, enough of that crap.

A/N: To everyone who reviews what I write, I owe a thank you. You inspire me, make me laugh, and keep me going, and I really appreciate that. So anyways, thanks again, and on with the story.

~*~

Tsuzuki x Hisoka “Dance partners.”

~*~

“Oh will you just live a little Hisoka?” Tsuzuki pleaded, beginning to sound slightly exasperated.
“For the LAST time, Tsuzuki. NO.”
“Please?” Tsuzuki begged.
“No.” (Cranky.)
“Please!”
“No.” (Getting aggravated)
“Please?!” Watari chimed in.
“NO!”(Pissed.)
Tatsumi paused at the copy machine, listening to Tsuzuki plead with Hisoka for the thousandth time. Whatever it was, it must be very important to the violet-eyed shinigami to keep harassing his grumpy blonde partner. Personally, Tatsumi wanted to hear the two of them stop arguing, and Tsuzuki stop whining. He hated it when the smaller man begged. After all, if Tatsumi could truly deny Tsuzuki very little, why shouldn’t everyone else? That gave him a plan. A wonderful plan. It would make his day much quieter.
The shadow master smiled wickedly to himself and then put on his best ‘angry’ face and turned sharply on his heel, crossing the office in three strides. He took note, with a certain amount of pride that everyone in a four-foot radius dove for cover under their desks. He took a moment, and hovered behind Hisoka, slowly raising his aura to the level of “scary mother fucker.” It was when a small hot wind slipped through the office like a breeze from hell; ruffling a few papers, and the shadows suddenly seemed to grow thicker, that the bickering stopped between the three shinigami.
Watari looked up and cringed in on himself like a puppy sen a n a nearby newspaper on radar. Tsuzuki just stopped speaking and gaped. And Tatsumi would have paid to be a fly on the wall to see the look on Hisoka’s face. If the eyebrow raise from Tsuzuki was any indication, the young shinigami probably had the patented ‘There is something bad behind me…isn’t there?” expression on his face. If they only knew how he was inwardly getting a chuckle, they would have relaxed a bit. But the farce had to go on. This was too rich.
“Hisoka.” He thundered. Sometimes having the booming voice of God was good.
The blonde shinigami turned around so fast he must have given himself whiplash. His pulse was beating wildly in his throat, and his green eyes were wide with fear.
“Tatsumi sama?” Hisoka breathed. The last honorific of Tatsumi’s title was Hisoka’s way of trying to say without words ‘please don’t feed me my spleen.’
“Would you please show a small amount of obedience toward your partner?” Tatsumi asked, his voice a purring growl.
“O…o…obedience?” Hisoka stuttered in disbelief, a small amount of anger rising in those green eyes, despite his previous fear.
“Simply give in for once in your life. I am sure he would not be arguing this point with you unless he felt it was important.”
“But…he just wants me to…”
“That hardly matters whether you think it is relevant, he is your partner, and your senior. Perhaps you should take some initiative and cooperate!?”
Hisoka’s eyes bulged. Who was this man and what had he done with Tatsumi?
“But.”
“NO BUTS!” He thundered.
“Yes sir.” Hisoka mumbled humbly. Dropping his eyes to peer seethingly at his shoes.
Tatsumi gave Tsuzuki and Watari a conspiratorial wink as he turned on his heel and stalked away back to the machine to finish his copying. The two shinigami shared a moment of triumphant looks before they slipped back into their poker faces. It wouldn’t do to have Hisoka turn around and catch them.
Hisoka walked from the room muttering curses in every language he could think of, while Watari and Tsuzuki commented on his bad luck and tried to cheer him up, trying to convince him that this would be fun.
If anyone had bothered to look, they would have noticed Tatsumi was rather suspiciously burying a smile into the cuff of his suit jacket, and wiping his eyes with his thumbs before the tears clung to his glasses. This was the most fun he had had in ages. He felt vaguely sorry for Hisoka. But now the office was quiet, and he could go back to sorting the paperclips by color in peace. What more could a lowly secretary ask for?

~*~
“You can’t go in that.” Watari stated flatly.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Hisoka snapped, his defense up.
“It’s a night club Bon, as much as I love that orange shirt and beat up pair of blue jeans, you really aught to wear something else.”
Hisoka sighed and looked beleaguered.
“I don’t have anything else.”
Watari blinked. He had seen this coming and was prepared.
“So we go shopping then.”
“I am NOT going shopping.”
“You really should Bon, if you are going with Tsuzuki.”
“I do not have the money, and don’t remind me. In that order.”
“Yes you do. And yes I will, in that order.” Watari reproached gently. “Since when have you bought anything for yourself Bon?”
“Since!”
Watari waited. And waited. And waited.
“Oh, fine, you win!” Hisoka snapped irritably.
“So I will see you after work then? Meet me outside the lab. Yes?” Watari chirped happily, as if he had not just been grouched at.
“Yes.” Hisoka growled irritably.
“Oh good! This will be so much fun!” Watari clapped his hands gleefully. Hisoka wished, not for the first time that day, for a bazooka. It wouldn’t happen. But he could dream.

~*~

“So what are you wearing?” Watari asked the violet-eyed shinigami.
“I don’t know? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I can’t help Hisoka match with you if you don’t tell me!” Watari grinned.
“You sneaky…how the heck did you pull that one off? Hisoka hates shopping!”
“I…” Watari stated proudly as he puffed his chest out and 003 circled him like a small orbiting moon “Am just that good.”
“I guess!” Tsuzuki smiled.
“Well?” Watari prodded.
“The black shirt with slit sleeves. I know he likes it, I’m pretty sure he was checking me out in it.”
Watari nodded gleefully.
“Good choice, hmmm….pants?”
“Dark green leather ones, lots of zippers. Very nice.”
“Hmmmm….” Watari mused as he rubbed his chin.
“Perfect!”
Tsuzuki smiled shyly under Watari’s approval.
“Oh god, Watari, what if he turns me down?” Tsuzuki murmured, biting his lip anxiously and unable to quell the tears that formed in the corners of his eyes.
“I don’t think he will.” Watari whispered as he pulled Tsuzuki into a short hug. “I have to go before the lab staff notices I’m gone and calls out the cavalry.” He released Tsuzuki and dried his anxious tears with his thumbs.
“Ok.” Tsuzuki murmured. “Thanks Watari.” He flashed the chirpy scientist a brilliant smile before shooing him from the empty break room. “Get to work, before you get in trouble. I do enough of that as it is.” Tsuzuki stated.
“One would imagine so.” Watari laughed. “Oh, and Tsuzuki, meet us at my apartment at eight, we can head out about ten.”
Tsuzuki saluted the lanky, longhaired blonde.

~*~

A/N: Please review? The more you review, the more I want to write, I’m just a horrible ham, so please, stroke my ego and I promise to reward you well. *Grins*