Spanish Fly

By Ann V.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Trigun. If I did this most definitely would be an episode. Can you imagine that? Episode 10: Spanish Fly. Ha!

Warnings: Plotting. Chemicals. Promiscuity. Heterosexuals. Homosexuals. Bad Humor. Midvalley.

Part 3: The Fly Bites

Legato Bluesummers was deep in his Master’s lair somewhere tinkering with chemicals. No one really suspected anything about what he was doing because they were all out having a good time; not that Legato wasn’t having a good time.

"Lemon juice? What the heck?" he muttered under his breath rummaging through a cabinet to grab some... you guessed it lemon juice. He poured the liquid into a beaker that was filled with something foaming and day-glow pink. The concoction sputtered a bit and took on a smell not unlike raspberry cheesecake. He turned up the flame underneath the beaker and hoped that it did not explode. The concoction started to steam great clouds of cotton candy pink. Legato coughed overwhelmed by the smell of chocolate and the taste of cotton candy.

He backed away and watched the concoction steam off for a little while and making up his own little song. It sounded a lot like “Flesh for Fantasy” which is a Billy Idol song, but he wouldn’t have known that. I do. He was feeling very good. Can you guess why? You can? Well then you are a very smart yaoi fangirl, good for you. Yes, Legato was going to use Spanish Fly to accomplish one of his not-so-secret goals. Hey, pretty much anyone would have used it on him; why can’t he use it on some silly blonde maniac? What’s that you say? Well Legato and I always was knew you were kind of simple, thanks for proving us right. The concoction was done, the pink clouds of steam dissipating to reveal a whole beaker full of a pink powder called Spanish Fly.

Legato smiled to himself and considered doing a victory dance but was too hungry to be so inspired. He had just started pouring the beaker’s contents into a few different vials when his conscience decided to pop up on his shoulder. It looked a lot like Knives-sama in a toga with little wings and a halo but that’s totally beside the point.

"Legato-kun, you can’t do this!" It squeaked.

"Who the hell are you and why did you call me Legato-kun?" He asked giving his shoulder a look.

"I’m your conscience here to tell you that if you love Knives-sama you won’t make him do something he doesn’t want to do." It squeaked again and gave him little chibi concience puppy dog eyes. Then there was a little foom of smoke on the table. A little slutty looking female Legato coughed and cleared the smoke.

"Who says he doesn’t want to do it?" It asked leering delicately at Legato’s conscience.

"Who are you?" Both Legato and his conscience asked at the same time.

"Let’s just say I’m Libido." It said leering some more. The conscience looked shocked. Then the libido, who could have been Legato’s and could have been someone else’s even the author’s*, grabbed a vial of Fly, glomped Legato’s conscience, and they both disappeared in a squeak and a foom of smoke. Legato just shrugged and went back to pouring the Fly into vials.

When he finished he shoved as many vials as would fit into his pockets and skipped, yes skipped, out of the lab off to the drug store. Doesn’t that seem vaguely familiar? Anyway a few minutes after he’d left Midvalley wandered into the lab looking for valve oil for Sylvia and saw the little vials on a table. The Hornfreak picked one up and opened it, taking a sniff.

"Hey, it’s Spanish Fly." He said smirking. He closed the container and put it, along with ten more, into his pockets. Every single barhopping inhabitant of Gunsmoke got the cold feeling of certain doom.

On Legato’s way out to the drug store he passed by his own bedroom where he could hear someone crying softly. He opened his door a little bit and looked at Dominique who was still less clothed than he would have preferred and also getting tear-liquified mascara on his pillow. She looked up at him pathetically. He didn’t feel bad for her but he did want to pay her back for the idea and make her stop messing up his nice pillow. He pulled a vial out of his pocket and tossed it at her.

"What’s this for?" She asked quietly staring at the vial of Spanish Fly.

"For giving me an idea. But if you use it on me I’ll drug you and lock you in a room with Midvalley. With no rubbers." He said calmly daring her to even try. She picked the vial up and looked at it.

"You know what that means, right?" He had a very evil look on his face when she shook her head ‘no’.

Drip. Drip. He projected. She shuddered long and hard. He left and skipped off to a store of questionable reputation.

Coming Next: Still Life with Cutlery