TITLE: Thought He Liked Gauchos...

AUTHOR: Ragna

writinggoddess@aol.com

RATING: PG

SEQUEL TO: She Has Nice Silk Knickers, Too

CLASSIFICATION: Spike crushing on Giles.

SUMMARY: Spike's figured out who he really wants and it blows up in his face.

SPOILERS: I set the prequel at pre-"Into The Woods" so we'll just assume it diverged into an alt universe at some point around that time.

DISTRIBUTION: Any sites with my fic up; you all have unspoken permission. I write it, you can post it. Everyone else just keep my name on it and let me know.

DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If you do, I don't own it. Joss Whedon, Kazui Sandollar, The WB, UPN, et. al. most likely do.

FEEDBACK: Please send it offlist and let me know it's feedback; I do rapid delete on my account due to a lot of spam

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Answer to Gilewench's damned Gloveslap (#125) at You Got The Stones? (http://www.four-am.com/stones). The previous part is up at http://www.panthermoon.com/sct/SoloFicNS.html

DEDICATION: To my favorite Scottish lassie, Gileswench. Considering I am younger than you and have never heard a single song from this band, this was really a research fic. You better like it.


Thought He Liked Gauchos...
By Ragna

Damn the Bay City Rollers!

You see, while ago, I was in this very same bar, nursing shot after shot of tequila, listening to Tom Petty and talking about this bint named Buffy. She's not as bad as I made her out to be, actually.

I guess, however, I was so angry at her for not being what I wanted because...well, she *wasn't* what I wanted. After the last hundred or so years of chasing after women, something finally hit me: I don't like them much. I mean, like them as friends, love them as meals, but...well, I don't like them as shag partners, you know?

And it wasn't until I was stuck shacking up in the Watcher's home that I realized that, swinging the way I did, I swung firmly in his direction.

So when Buffy told me about this conversation they'd had years ago where he mentioned he'd liked the Bay City Rollers, I had this idea...

***

// S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night //

Mind you, a good portion of this had been the Slayer's idea. I suppose after having seen as much as she's seen and finding out her best friend is gay, finding out I fancied her Watcher wasn't as big a shock as it could have been.

She got the karaoke machine, the CD, and lured Giles out of his home. I broke into the local thrift shop the night before the planned "impromptu" concert to find some gauchos and mismatched tartan plaid.

I wore this stuff, once, the one and only time I went to a Bay City Rollers concert.

// Gonna keep on dancin' to the rock and roll
On Saturday night, Saturday night
Dancin' to the rhythm in our heart and soul
On Saturday Night, Saturday night
I-I-I-I, I just can't wait
I-I-I-I, I got a date //

I wanted blood, and if it meant wearing the horrendous get-up to get it, then I was prepared to do just that. The music was...decent. if you like fingernails on a chalkboard. Give me the Sex Pistols, The Ramones or the Stones any day.

Anyway. It was the blond little minx's idea for the shaggy wig. Cor, I looked a sight. I could just imagine what the others would say if the saw me now...

And then I heard it. The door opened and Giles was just gaping at me.

"What in the bloody--"

And I sang.

// At the good ole rock and roll road show, I gotta go
Saturday Night
Saturday Night
Gonna rock it up, roll it up
Do it all, have a ball
Saturday Night
Saturday Night
It's just a Saturday Night
It's just a Saturday Night
It's just a Saturday Night //

I sounded like a cat on a hot tin roof. I looked horrible, and though I admit to having a decent voice, my voice and this song just weren't meant for each other. If Giles had any idea I was trying to woo him, he wasn't showing a sign of it.

Bloody hell, I was horrible and I knew it.

And worst of all, so did he.

// S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night //

I started fervently praying this song would end. I could ditch the gauchos, the plaid, the scratchy itchy wig that I swear was made from sheepdog fur and just do...

Something not as embarrassing as this.

I was even starting to believe it was a setup from the Slayer for when I was snooping through her knickers drawer. At least I returned all the pairs in pristine condition. I think I even took them to the Laundromat before they landed back in her drawer...

That may have been a tad less embarrassing than this, washing a load of women's knickers and having everyone think they're yours. Like I could fit a size two. Size six, maybe.

// Gonna dance with my baby till the night is thru
On Saturday Night, Saturday Night
Tell her all the little things I'm gonna do
On Saturday night, Saturday Night
I-I-I-I, Ilove her so
I-I-I-I, I'm gonna let her know //

And you know what? His bloody reaction never changed. I don't know if I was blushing or not...not really sure if vampires can actually blush and whatnot, but I swear I felt my cheeks heat up.

What a lovely feeling to be stared at and realize the person staring at you is staring at you the way a scientist stares at a lab specimen.

Can you tell that he was staring? And it unnerved me? And that's why I hate crap like that?

// At the good ole rock and roll road show, I gotta go
Saturday Night
Saturday Night
Gonna rock it up, roll it up
Do it all, have a ball
Saturday Night
Saturday Night
It's just a Saturday Night
It's just a Saturday Night
It's just a Saturday Night //

And through it all, I chanted "I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot" in a monotone. Now I remembered what happened at the concert: they got to this song, I got a migraine and ended up down the street where I almost got mugged.

But I got fed because, hey, I may not look manly in gauchos but I can still beat the piss out of anyone looking for a fight or my wallet. Or my smokes; mustn't forget my smokes. I'll guard those things with my life.

//S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night //

And that was when he flipped the switch off, thankfully. Peered down at me through his glasses, and said, "I'm more of a Stones fan, myself." He shook his head and walked towards his bedroom, stopping for a moment to add, "And get those ridiculous pants off of you."

I shook my head and the wig flew off. Got back into my regular clothes and here I am mate.

Hand me the bottle of tequila? I need a drink.



END