bakerstreet | (no subject)

Her head shook loosely, hairs getting all in her face, clinging to the traces of sweat on her forehead and tickling his chin.

"Doubt it. Only thing left's the bridal toss...and you know how I feel about that."

I can't really ever see myself getting married. It's just not for me.

Echoes of a conversation from what seemed like only yesterday echoed in her mind. They had been joking around at the time, watching one of those awful bridezilla reality television shows and mocking the women who threw fits over their flowers not having enough blue in them, or one of the bridesmaids daring to get pregnant ("selfish bitch!"). It was all so nonsensical, Zatanna had initially proclaimed that 'this is why some people just elope'...which had led to the short, but oddly meaningful subsequent conversation about weddings in general.

"I remember," he answered with a chuckle, patiently and carefully combing the strands of hair back into order like it was the most important task he had before him. They had joked about anything and everything and yet before that, they'd always managed (consciously or not) to skirt around topics that dealt with their futures. Jack had always held to the traditional idea of a wedding (which was unsurprising given where his penchant for liking classics, as he insisted his sometimes dated preferences showed) but he'd never really considered it applicable to himself, for evident reasons and thus never given it significant thought.

"If they're not expecting you back... maybe once you feel up to it, I could have a dance."

"I thought you'd never ask." She held still, loving the feel of him playing with her hair like that. Her lips twitching in amusement at the offer, fairly certain he didn't mean going back inside to the dance floor. "Just one problem, though: there's no music out here."

"I'm sure you could whip something up," is the sly response and he reached inside his sweater, pulling out a very familiar pendant and letting it dangle from his fingers so she could see.

"Look what I kept," he said.

Even drunk, it took less than a second for her to recognize the pendant. Her whole face lit up, the implication obvious to her, and she glanced back and forth between him and it for a moment.

"Does it still work?"

"Guess we'll find out," Jack grinned, leaning back slightly so he could use one hand to slip the pendant over his head. Once it settled against his chest, it took the magic a moment to take hold, but then the glamour caught up and his features changed.

"Well?"

She took in every inch of the visage. HIs wild, unruly brown hair. Flush cheeks. Darkened eyes. It wasn't Jack, but it was a Jack that she could be with in public, and to her, that meant more than anything else.

"I think I like you better the other way," she teased, likely poking at his nose. Though the expression warmed considerably as her finger then slowly trailed down, glossing over his lips. "But I suppose this will do for tonight. Wanna come party crash?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, staying still as she touched his face and welcoming the warmth of her skin against hers. Though the pendant's magic diffused the cold of his body temperature, Jack still experienced temperature to him on his unique skewed scale of feeling.

When she drew back her hand, he stood and held a hand out to her. "Milady," he smirked playfully.

A single phrase, and he wasn't even fully serious, but--in the state she was in--she had to half choke back a sob. The alcohol in her system was starting to make her emotional. Damn.

"I hope you don't talk like that in front of the others," she teased right back, absently rubbing at her eyes. There were no tears, but she couldn't risk that chance. She'd missed his dorky, old-fashioned ways. "Next thing you know, you're going to ask for one of your oldies songs for the DJ to play."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, having not missed the sound that she made as she stood. "I'd have a good excuse made up for it if I did," he teased, though he didn't have any intention to do so.

"Oldies," he scoffed. "Classics, I tell you!"

Keeping his hand on hers, he started to guide them back inside.

"Classic Oldies, then. A compromise."

Before she knew it, they were at the entrance to the dance area. The party was still in full swing, with nearly every person under the age of...60(?) under the dance floor. Except for the Bride's grandfather, who was...dancing with...three of the bridesmaids. At the same time.

Jack swept his eyes around the room, noting the happy people and smiled like he was absorbing something from the ambiance of the room... and maybe he was, before he transferred his gaze back to Zatanna.

"There's not going to be a jealous date showing up to cut in?"

"No date, jealous or otherwise."

There was that one groomsman who had been her partner down the aisle, but that hardly qualified as a date.

Besides that, it was an endless sea of familiar faces, not so familiar faces, and faces she had never seen before in her life. Unsurprising, given her lack of relationship with the groom. All she knew about the guy what that he was good for her friend. They would have a good life together. She was actually even happy for them.

"No guarantees about the cutting, though. Bride's grandfather has a habit of stealing all the girls on the dance floor. S'mine turn eventually maybe."

"I have a hard time believing that you couldn't find one if you'd wanted to," Jack said, guiding her to the dance floor. A song was just finishing and a new one beginning, slow enough for an easy start. Jack held out his hand for hers, the pendant dulling his chill.

"Which I suppose I'd then have to take as you didn't ask," he added.

"Didn't need to. He found me first."

She recognized the song almost immediately, even though her haze. It was that popular. Also a favorite of the bride's, who loved Etta James.

♪~At last / My love has come home~♪

Their feet automatically led them to the dance floor. There were already dozens of couples on the floor. Some actual couples, and a few who were obviously in it just for the fun. One of the flower girls was busy twirling the ring bearer, drawing the majority of the room's attention. For once, Zatanna had no intentions of competing. The moment was theirs. No one else's.

She trusted him to carry some of her weight, hands braced against his chest as she moved in close. Closing her eyes, and letting him take the lead. Lightly swaying back and forth to the music.

The smile thread spread over Jack's face when he immediately recognized the song was telling, because this was what he considered a classic (and who didn't love Etta James) and he found it easy to lead to the song that he knew very well, even humming along a little under his breath.

♪~My lonely days are over / And life is like a song~♪

"You realize that the last time we danced together was prom?" he asked, his own eyes lowered to half mast as the music continued.

She hadn't, actually, until he'd mentioned it.

They'd gone together, of course, because why wouldn't they? None of the other members of the Team had been there that night, because they had either already graduated or went to different schools. So it had been the two of them, and they'd definitely made the most of it.

"That was a good prom. I liked that prom," she smiled against him, before adding: "I still say I rocked the bowtie better than you did."

"I liked it too," he replied, though he didn't have any other ones to compare it to. Still, one shared with Zatanna was as good a scenario as he could have ever envisioned so he had no need to long for another.

"I won't disagree," Jack answered with a lazy smile, before his hands ghosted over the back of her dress she currently wore. "Gotta say I still like this better though."

Cold radiated from his fingertips, even through the charm. She shivered a little at the touch traveling up her spine. It felt good. Suppressing a laugh, she readjusted herself against him to bury herself in his shoulder just long enough to get her hormones (mostly) under control.

"The dress, or the party?" Just to clarify. "...I should also point out that we only just made it to the dance floor. In case you have ideas of keeping doing what you're doing back there."

(Maybe not entirely coherent, but she liked to think her point had been gotten across.)

Jack hummed approvingly at her new position against his shoulder. "The dress," he reiterated. "But the party's no slouch either. And I couldn't even begin to guess what you meant by the last part." The tease was accompanied by a generous dip, so that her hair trailed across his arm supporting her.

She laughed openly at the dip, alcohol in her system leaving her body loose and her movements fluid enough to almost pass for graceful. With his strong guidance, of course.

When she came back up again, hair slightly askew around her face, their noses lightly brushed together from the close proximity.

"Sure you don't."

"I don't," he maintained with a surprisingly straight face. "After all, it's not like I'd ever imply that much as I'm thrilled to see you again, the only thing better would be if it were without an audience."

"Then I guess it wouldn't make much of a difference if I told you I'm staying at the adjacent hotel tonight. Alone."

Whimsical, as if it really were no more than a passing thought. It really was too soon to abandon the festivities--not before the cake had been cut and bouquet had been tossed, at least--but after....

"I can't say for certain whether that'd change my mind," Jack replied, his hand settling back to a more appropriate place along her the small of her back. "Do you have more bridesmaid duties come morning?"

Her head lightly shook against him.

"Not a one. Soon as the party's over, I'm all yours."