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it-happened-one-fic · 1 month ago

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Dancing With Visions - Until Next Time - Dottore - Argentine Tango

Author Notes: Apologies, this one ended up long. I was having too much fun writing it, though. Plus, the dance I watched to inspire this fic's dance was really, really good. So that didn't help matters either. The dance in this fic was inspired by the Argentine Tango performance by Miriam Larici & Leonardo Barrionuevo to “Tanguera” by Forever Tango on So You Think You Can Dance (2009). The fic was also written while I listed to “Tanguera” by Forever Tango. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this series, the fics can be found here: Dancing with Visions Masterlist

Type: Female reader/ rivalry/ enemies to something but they're still foes/ sfw/ NOT yandere

Word count: 2843

Infiltrating a masquerade ball at the Zapolyarny Palace had to be one of the worst jobs I’d ever gotten. And that was even with the fact that I’d gotten the fancy dress, jewels, and masquerade mask for free.

My job was, overall, simple though. I just had to see if you could find any weaknesses within the upper crust of Fatui ranks.

All of the harbingers were going to be present for the ball being held by the Tsaritsa herself, who, despite never participating in the grandiose affairs, was well known for her love of masquerade balls. Especially the ones involving cross-dressing.

I wasn’t at one of the cross-dressing balls, though. Instead, this one was simpler, though still perfectly grand.

All told, it should have been incredibly simple to infiltrate the ball and get some sort of information before slipping out without anyone noticing.

But, that was not the case tonight, considering there was someone who was already onto my little plot. And it wasn’t just anyone. No, it was a Harbinger.

I was just lucky that I’d realized that he knew what I was up to already before I could make some sort of blunder resulting in my death.

I stared at the masked face of the second of the harbingers, Dottore, forcing myself to keep the polite smile on my face.

I’d dealt with him before, and that was how he knew what I was here for. Though I hadn’t known who was at our first meeting.

“Well, what are you up to this time? Petty theft, or something else?” The words rolled off his tongue easily as he held out his hand. To most, it probably looked like a polite request to dance, but I knew what it really was.

A demand. If I refused, he’d out me immediately. Why he hadn’t done so already, I didn’t know. But I was currently surviving on his little mercies, which was hardly a good place to be.

I let my hand slide into his, the careful smile remaining on my face as I whispered back, “Hardly. But how, pray tell, did you recognize me?”

His smile didn’t waver as he led me through the crowd despite the murmurs of people around us. Apparently the mad scientist didn’t usually dance.

“You were wearing a mask last time we met too. You look remarkably similar,” My smile almost dropped at his words.

Last time I’d encountered him I had indeed been wearing a mask. But I’d also be in an outfit more like what a ninja from Inazuma might wear. Not a glistening gown that befit a glittering atmosphere like this one.

Drums began softly as lights lowered and I watched other dancers began fleeing the floor and I felt myself tense slightly at the realization of what sort of beat was being laid out.

I spun and wrapped an arm around his shoulders so that my hand rested against his back. Letting him continue to hold my hand while his other hand rested against my waist.

Somehow, it was only fitting that I was going to be dancing the Argentine tango, a dance so notably capable of being coldly aggressive, with this man.

Slinky string notes that cut themselves off short had us launching into motion until we abruptly froze as the string music halted. We held our pose, with me leaning forward on one leg while the other draped across his body and over his bent leg while he supported me.

“So you were chosen for this job because you can dance,” His voice was soft enough that only I could hear it, but it seemed to roll out and fill the space.

“What makes you think I was hired? Perhaps I just came here to see if I could get in,” I matched his low volume when I answered. Keeping my face turned away from him, as if I was in no way uncomfortable with having to dance with him.

But this was a good opportunity. If I were lucky, I could get information out of him. If not, I would be heading home without any because I certainly wasn’t staying after having been discovered.

No amount of pay was worth that.

The next note had him swinging me up as I extended one leg and kicked lightly before he swung me back down so that I was once again on two feet and spinning out from him in time for the next note that signaled our pause.

This time we stopped with only one of my hands in his as we stood side by side, with our arms outstretched between us.

“Get in and get some sort of information to be used against us,” He looked towards me, still not outing me even though he knew precisely what my plan was.

I refused to meet his gaze though, instead opting to look towards the floor with careful disinterest.

That was the secret to dealing with this man. To not let him know when he had you. And that was an art in and of itself considering how he toyed with others.

“Would challenging myself be so odd? I’ve already successfully gotten away once,” My voice stayed level as I responded. And my words were true; I’d already gotten away once.

But I’d been beyond lucky then, and now I was beyond unlucky to be having to deal with him yet again.

The next note signaled our motions once more. Him spinning over and wrapping his arm back around me so we could rotate together with careful footsteps until he dipped me.

I grasped his elbows as I leaned backwards almost limply, perfectly aware of the perilous position I’d found myself in as I relied solely on him for support as the next note rang out through the room, and he lowered me still lower so that he was holding me only by my hands. My head mere inches from the ground before he pulled me back up, and I spun out to the other side.

Once more, we were side by side, linked only by our hands as he looked my way and I determinedly avoided eye contact.

The entire room was staring at us, and I realized that the two of us were the only dancers on the floor. I almost gritted my teeth as I realized exactly what he was playing at.

He was making sure everyone here saw me so that there was no way my job could go as smoothly as I’d initially hoped.

I was no longer just another masked face in the crowd. I was now Dottore’s strangely talented dance partner as we danced with an unspoken tension between us that probably left the other partygoers curious.

We walked across the floor to the slinky beat, as if there were nothing amiss, though we no longer spoke.

Our footwork aligned closely, each step barely missing the other's foot before he retreated. His hand holding mine once again was the only thing linking us as he eyed me. Waiting for a reaction.

I almost grimaced as I realized what move came next. A lift.

At long last, I lifted my gaze to barely meet his, just to make sure he was ready to catch me.

The smooth smile on his face that told me nothing other than the fact that he was indeed prepared was answer enough, and I spun towards him. Letting my motions carry me up and into his arms as I arched my back so that I was looking up at the ceiling.

There were soft murmurs from the crowd as we paused to hold the position, his arms not even trembling as he held me there before slowly letting me down so that we were walking across the floor once more. Hand in hand with my back to his chest.

A few steps forward, and I spun so that we were once more chest to chest, with only a slight amount of space between us as we moved languidly around the floor. Our motions smooth despite the intricacy of the footwork.

One wrong step, and we would kick or step on the other. But we matched each other step for step. Almost as if we’d been made to dance with one another as each motion flowed easily into the next.

And despite myself, I was impressed. He was a frustratingly good dancer.

“Did you learn to dance for your master’s balls, or is it some sort of hobby for you outside of your experiments?” My voice was still steady even though I was having to focus closely on our steps.

I could hear the amusement, perfectly villainous, in his voice as he responded with an equally stable voice despite the fact he’d already exhibited impressive strength with the lift he’d pulled off mere moments ago, “The Tsaritsa is not my master. She is merely an employer, much like the one who sent you here. As for the tango, it is a bit of a study to measure people’s reactions to close, intimate proximity.”

I chose to ignore his assertion that I was indeed sent by an employer. Denying any further would just prove him right. Instead, I focused on his other words, and they weren’t untrue. Many people did get embarrassed or uncomfortable when dancing the tango. And the Argentine variety was particularly bad.

It was, after all, a dance that required you to remain pressed to one another like you were in the throes of some passionate experience.

I shifted my gaze to barely look his way and immediately recognized my mistake. He was looking towards me despite the fact our heads were turned so that we weren’t facing each other. Measuring me for a reaction in the interest of his study.

I allowed myself a half-mocking smile, “And what are you finding in this round of your experiment?” As I spoke, I spun, my back pressing itself to his chest once more as I kicked one leg back and between his legs as he grasped my hips, and we paused to match the beat.

He remained silent until we moved once more. Me spinning to once again enter a closed hold with him as he led me across the floor. But this time, my eyes stayed looking ahead, in the direction we were headed in, while he faced me. Almost as if he refused to look away from me anymore.

And perhaps that was part of his experiment. A subtle manipulation to increase the intensity of the dance and see how I reacted.

“You, are an outlier,” He all but breathed the words into my ear, and I swallowed. Suppressing the urge to swallow thickly at exactly how pleased he sounded with his findings.

He lifted me once more, with little warning, but I struck a pose easily as he held me aloft. My hands in his as he continued to swing me around until I touched down once more.

I briefly glanced his way, finding that I too was measuring his behavior. But the intimate way in which he spoke paired with the dance we were doing was confusing at best. I knew he was a master manipulator, but I’d hardly been prepared for this type of manipulation.

“You’re quite the confident dancer yourself,” I breathed back before twisting as I walked away from him, only for him to grasp my arms with surprisingly gentleness and wrap both his and my own arms around me in some form of embrace.

I sighed before spinning back towards him, knowing perfectly well exactly what move he wanted to do next. All the signs were there, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. Unable to avoid looking at him as he leaned me backwards so that my body slid between his legs in a mockery of an embrace before he spun me where I lay in his hold and I released his neck.

Whipping around with only his support until he stopped me, and I arched my head back, looking at our audience with one outstretched arms, only to find that they were perfectly enraptured by our performance.

But a good tango told a story. An intimate one of either scornful rage or intense passion. And I knew exactly the sort of tale he was weaving as he pulled me up and slowly moved. Forcing me to turn my head to look at him as I exhaled slowly. Recovering from our sudden rapid motions.

I stepped back, kneeling in front of him and praying he’d accept my surrender, but he didn’t. Instead, he stepped forward and knelt with me. His hand cradling the back of my head as he inclined his own head. Putting us nose to nose and causing the audience to sigh as he guided me back to a standing position.

My motions became slightly more vehement as frustration began to kick in at his behavior. There had to be a reason he wouldn’t let this dance end, “You do like to push your luck, don’t you, Dottore. A good experiment should’ve ended a long time ago.”

He continued to match my motions perfectly, in no way backing down, “But neither of us have gotten what we want. You don’t have any information for your employer, and I…”

He paused briefly as he whipped me around, and I knew what he was waiting for. What he wanted.

I almost gritted my teeth before looking his way. This time, unabashedly. And he grinned at the unfiltered annoyance that I knew danced through my eyes as he finished, “I haven’t gotten your name yet.”

My eye twitched.

Giving an enemy your name during an infiltration would be tantamount to suicide. Especially when that enemy was Dottore. It would be obvious that whatever name I gave him would be fake. So I had only one option.

To give him my real name and watch as the frustration kicked in for the mad genius. Besides, I had figured out something already.

“It seems you’re on the losing end this time, Dottore. I have gotten what I wanted,” His eyebrows rose at my words, and, if possible, he appeared even more amused as he lifted me into the air.

But it was an interesting position. I somehow had the upper hand in the conversation while he was in full control of our motions. Dropping me now would doubtless result in injury to my person, but I wasn’t worried as I looked down at him, grinning triumphantly, “Something’s going on that you don’t want me to find out about.”

He lowered me, forcing me to pause as I had to concentrate on our motions before he did something unexpected. Showing exactly how much control he had over the situation as he lifted me. Placing me on my shoulder and forcing me to strike a pose once more to maintain appearance as he spun. Seemingly unbothered by my weight and subtly letting me know that, if I didn’t watch it, it could end very poorly for me.

He pushed up with one arm, and I spun. Rolling across his shoulders and down into his arms as our dance ended with finality. Him holding me aloft with my legs swung back so that I had no control as we looked towards each other. Finally holding eye contact for a lengthy period.

I panted slightly from exertion as applause rang out around us and he sat me down. I spun away from him reflexively, but he caught my hand.

I didn’t kick up a fuss though, as I bowed carefully before I let him lead me off the floor like some sort of demented gentleman.

I smiled slightly as I slipped from his grasp, turning to face him at the doorway. We both knew I was leaving, but I had one final part to play.

If he wanted my name, he would have it. But he would assume it was fake, and I would revel in watching him try to figure out what code was used.

“Thank you for the dance; I expect we’ll meet again?” At my faux-polite words, his lips quirked up into a smile.

“I expect so,” He grasped my hand once more, bending and pressing a kiss to it even though I could feel his eyes, behind his mask, staying on me.

“Then I’ll let you have this. You can call me Y/n.” He straightened as I spoke, the smile on his face as smooth as ever.

“Then til next, Y/n,” My name rolled off his tongue in the most unhurried manner possible. Like honey dripping from a bottle. You couldn’t control its speed, just like how I knew I couldn’t fully control or manipulate this man. Instead, it would always be a dance as we moved around each other. Gauging each other each time we met. I could only hope that this time I really did have the upper hand as I turned away from him with a smile.

“Until next time.”

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