bakerstreet | (no subject)

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slow dancing

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FORMAL OR INFORMAL, WITH MUSIC OR WITHOUT, YOU COULD BE AT A GLAMOUROUS GALA WHILE A SINGER CROONS SOFTLY OR IN THE SILENCE OF YOUR OWN LIVING ROOM. WHEREVER YOU ARE, YOU HAVE THE URGE TO DANCE. DID YOU ASK YOUR PARTNER OR DID THEY ASK YOU? HAVE YOU GOT TWO LEFT FEET OR IS THE VIENNESE WALTZ YOUR JAM? IT COULD BE AWKWARD, IT COULD BE ROMANTIC. EITHER WAY IT'S CUTE AS HELL.

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[Bonnie stands to the side of the room, swaying gently side to side, watching the skirt of her ivory dress swing like a lazy bell.

Another Nysgod festival she doesn’t really care about, but at least it’s an excuse to dress up. She likes that. She likes the feel of lacing up a gown, of clasping her pearls, of putting on that spritz of rose perfume.

Of course, it’s all moot if she’s dancing alone.

Couple after couple make their way out to the floor and begin dancing, and she’s still looking around, still waiting to be asked. Finally, she decides to make her way over to him instead. Girls are allowed to ask for a dance, right? And when she’s approached close enough to be heard:]

Hi Chuck.

[ Sometimes, the PPDC would hold big galas back home in order to mingle with rich idiots with big pockets; funding was always a necessity despite the fact that they'd been backed by the government initially. Jaegers cost billions of dollars to produce and even when all the worlds leaders come together to share the expense, sometimes it wasn't enough.

Chuck kind of hated them and by kind of he really hated them. He always felt out of place, he wasn't exactly social and didn't care much about polite conversation or small talk. He cared about keeping the PPDC funded and he leaned more towards brash, aggressive maneuvers than he did sweet talking drunk rich people.

Herc did most of the talking and appealing for the Australian duo.

This party reminds him of that and so when Bonnie comes up he looks like he's just eaten something sour. ]

What?

[Okay.

Well.

Not exactly the reaction she’s been hoping for and always the type to wear her heart on her sleeve, the surprise registers on her face for a moment—just a moment, though, and then she offers him another smile.]

You look nice.

[She reaches up to tuck a curl behind her ear—a small, nervous gesture. Come on, McCullough. It’s not your sophomore homecoming, you’re an adult. Just suck it up and ask.]

Do you want to dance?

[ It's really nothing personal, Bonnie, and his expression softens when he realizes how churlish he's being towards her and it's not even her fault. ]

Thanks, love.

[ He cuts a pretty fine figure in a tux, he can admit that. He just feels -- strange, in it. Like it's not him. ]

Dance? [ He looks uneasily around, then relents and offers his arm. ]

Sure. Why not.

[She takes it, slipping her arm through his, slightly relieved she doesn’t have to deal with the quiet slipping away in embarrassment if he’d said no.

She can handle churlish, she doesn’t do so well with rejection.]

You know how, don’t you? They teach you that sort of thing in New Zealand?

[Her smile is a little coy Yes. She is teasing.]

[ Not many people are aware that Chuck knows how to dance. It's one of those things he doesn't broadcast. Ever. ]

You be the judge.

[ He elbows her a little for that comment, but sweeps her around in front of him, holding her hand by her fingertips, before drawing her in tight and close. ]

Oh.

[She looks up at him, startled, not quite expecting the move.

Still, she falls into position easily enough. She comes from a traditional Virginian family, in an old-fashioned town where cotillions still happen. Bonnie’s had her fair share of dancing lessons.]

Mr. Hansen. You surprise me every time I see you.

[ Shock and awe, Chuck Hansen isn't a bumbling fool on the dance floor -- he knows what he's doing, and he's good. He grins at her, winks, and moves, keeping her probably closer than necessary, but leaving enough space to still move freely. ]

I try t'keep people on their toes. Does me no good to be predictable, does it?

[Move as close as you like, Chuck. She won’t be making any protests.

She might blush just a little bit, though. But she turns away, glancing at something behind his shoulder (really, it’s a potted plant, but he doesn’t need to know that. a distraction is a distraction).]

Did they teach you this sort of thing inside a giant robot?

[ Oh, Bonnie. That blush is so lovely, he jsut wants to eat you right up. ]

Nah.

[ Not really -- though, they say that the kwoon training is like a dance and Chuck, as always, took it a step further and perfected it, like he does with everything he sets his mind to. ]

[If there's one thing that Danae hates about their situation, it's the balls she goes to at her mother's insistence, and the obligatory dancing she must endure. Oh, she loves to dance of course, she's loved to dance since she was a child, running around barefoot in the grass and twirling until she came in with feet stained green. But now she's older and the only person she actually wants to dance with is not allowed. Still keeping their involvement a secret, knowing it would be forbidden, Danae's forced to indulge herself in private.

It's late in the evening when she leads Chuck to a far wing of the castle, to the small private ballroom she had lessons in. There's no one there to play for them, but after lighting a few candles along the walls and seeing their glow reflected in the mirrors, the room seems light enough for them to at least see each other. Expression warm, she holds out a hand to him and speaks softly.]

Dance with me?

[ Chuck isn't sure where Danae (not Princess to him, only in public does he refer to her by her title - or if he's angry) is taking him until she opens the doors and he's led into a small ballroom that hasn't seen use in some time. He lifts his brows, gives her an amused look before taking the offered hand and pulling her gently into his arms. ]

There's no music, love.

[Danae wonders for a moment if he'll laugh and tell her no. He's a soldier, after all, not a courtier. But he takes her hand, tugs her into his arms and it feels like they simply fit together. Smiling up at him, she tilts her head.]

Well I can't play the flute for you while we dance so I suppose you'll just have to accept the challenge of leading without it.

[She might have brought someone, but this thing between them is secret still, and Danae rather treasures the privacy they have in this regard. What they have is theirs, no one else's to watch or judge or interfere with.]

Suppose we can work with that.

[ He pulls her in a little closer than is necessary to dance, his palm flat at her back as he starts to sway, leading her around the dance floor. ]

I'll try not to step on your toes.

[ It's said in jest, and maybe to her surprise - Chuck knows precisely what he's doing, and how to dance. ]

[Part of the joy of doing this with him, there in the private, is the fact that he can pull her in closer than people would in polite society. She can feel him close to her, let her arm rest on his shoulder so that her fingertips brush his neck, and let him carry them across the dance floor.]

You're very good at this...

[The compliment is murmured with a minimum of surprise, rather, far more pleasure at the revelation.]

Who taught you?

Can't reveal all my secrets, can I?

[ He grins crookedly at her, sweeping her across the floor with practised ease.

Nope - his lips are sealed. He's not saying a word. ]

I suppose not, but but I wouldn't mind knowing one or two.

[Her skirts swirl around her feet as they move on the dance floor, and her eyes are locked on his.]

I like knowing you better than anyone else. I'm selfish that way.

[ He grins, twirling her and moving effortlessly and with a shocking amount of grace. ]

During training, we were taught. Fighting can be a dance, so this was incorporated. Felt stupid at the time, but damned if they weren't right.

[Danae feels her heart lift as he spins her on the floor, as good as--no, better than most of her suitors. Her smile widens with the explanation.]

I love it. We ought to make sure everyone who fights learns to dance as well. It ought to be routine. Mandatory!

[Her hands tighten on his shoulder, on his hand, and she eases further into the dance. For this moment, they're a single entity, moving as one.

It feels as if everything is clicked into place.]

[ Of course he's better. He's Chuck, and he's the best at everything he does and to say anything otherwise is an affront and a slight to his pride. ]

Sh, you'll give away my secret.

[ He spins her, then dips her, nose brushing lightly against hers. ]

Can't have everyone being as good as me.

[Danae leans up and pokes her nose against his, somehow managing to do so gracefully without losing a step.]

Can't we? It's not as if I'll be dancing with any of them.

[Her smile widens.]

Now that I know you dance so well I'll keep you dancing so much they won't be able to get the edge on you.

[Because she wants him holding her always.]

[ He actually laughs when she brushes her nose to his, and he retaliates by giving her a teasing little kiss before pulling back and sweeping her into a deep dip. ]

I suppose that is a burden I can bear.

[Danae feels her heart leap into her throat with that dip, the way it always does, and laughter bursts from her lips as she smiles up at him.]

That's good, because I'm the princess so you have to do as I say.

[She says it with a little lilt to her voice, a teasing one that makes it clear that she knows where the line is drawn. The orders she gives him are only those related to his duties. When it comes to them there is no imbalance of power. No orders, no commands.]

[ Chucks laugh bubbles up from the very pit of his soul; bold and loud and genuine, and he squeezes her and keeps her in close, stealing little kisses when he can. ]

Heaven forbid I disobey the Princess.

Chuck Hansen | pacific rim

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