fic: (CSI:NY) The Language Of Feet -1-
The Language Of Feet
Author: CK
Rating: P12
Summary: Dancing. It's about music. About lyrics. It's the language of bodies, touching whereas else they're not allowed to. It's the secret language of feet, talking when voices not dare to tell the truth.
Disclaimer: I make it short this time - neither CSI:NY nor the lyrics of the songs I've used are mine.
Author's Note: Originally, this was only a one shot with the lyrics from "One Step Closer". Now it's becoming a series of some sort. This whole story, or more, one shot series will evolve around dancing.
- First in the series -
One Step Closer - Musical "The Little Mermaid"
The ball the most boring she had ever attended to. And she had to quite a few of these events; spent some good amount of time in big halls with an awful lot of overly dressed-up people and music she didn't like playing. She rarely enjoyed being there, even when she found someone to have a good conversation with.
But this time, not even someone to talk to was there. She had been standing at her cocktail table for what must have been hours, slowly getting tired of the loneliness, and jealous of her colleagues who didn't have to come here. This was only for higher ranks in civil service, and for once Stella Bonasera wholeheartedly hated her position as second-in-command to NYPD's CSI Head Investigator.
The Head Investigator who had of course found a way to avoid appearing here, saying that he had too much work to do, too many reports to write and read. She knew better, of course; this was simply not the kind of event he liked to come to. Actually, she didn't think there was any event he would happily agree to appear at; apart from some smaller birthday parties of their team members. Still, and despite knowing that, knowing him, she couldn't help but be a bit annoyed that he had left her alone, with all those people she either didn't know or didn't want to know.
So the surprise she had no idea was coming up right at the moment she had made the decision to leave couldn't have been bigger.
"Don't look that enthusiastic, people could think you're enjoying this," a slightly teasing voice suddenly coming from behind her startled her; but she broke into a smile when she recognized the voice.
"Mac," she said, turning towards her colleague and friend who had just stepped beside her. "I thought you didn't want to come?"
"I didn't want to, yes. And officially, I also couldn't because of all that work. Unfortunately, Sinclair made almost an order of it to appear, so... here I am." Stella couldn't help but laugh at the face he pulled, and then hugged her friend, happy to have him as company.
"You should thank Sinclair, you know," she grinned when they parted. At his questioning glance, she continued, "you won't have to fear my revenge now. For leaving me alone." Mac only chuckled at that.
They stood together in comfortable silence for a short while, watching as people streamed from the dance floor back to their tables after a song had just ended. Stella soon noticed Mac stiffen slightly beside her; and then, all of a sudden, he took her hand and pulled her towards the dance floor. Stella didn't bother to hide her astonishment.
"I didn't know you danced," she commented, finding herself in the very middle of the parqueted area, surrounded by dancing and chatting couples.
"It's either that or talking to people who'd sooner or later bore us with unnecessary discussions," he shrugged as he pulled her close to him, swaying to the first notes of the new song. His female companion huffed.
"Thank you very much," she said, but the amused sparkle in her eyes betrayed the pretended anger.
"You won't believe it, but I prefer dancing over small talk," he offered; however, his expression turned into a groan, followed by a silent apology when he realized that these words hadn't been any better. Stella smiled, shaking her head at him, very well understanding that he didn't include her in the group of people he was talking about indirectly.
Dancing is a language that is felt instead of heard...
Just let your emotions tell your body what to do
See how much a single gesture can reveal
Still busy with her amusement over friend's adorable clumsiness, she at first didn't really realize that they'd begun to move, to swirl across the floor amidst the other couples. Mac maneuvered her easily and skillfully around several pairs while he was holding her against him, one hand applying light pressure as it lay on the small of her back, the other holding one of hers, entwining his fingers with hers, his thumb stroking the back of her hand now and then.
A feeling grew inside Stella; something she shouldn't feel during a dance with a friend, a dance that shouldn't have anything special about it.
She felt what was happening, saw it. She heard the music, the lyrics. But she didn't understand any of it. She had known Mac for so long, and never before had he done anything like that. She didn't even know he could dance. She thought she knew him, that he wasn't able to surprise her; not in that way, not like this. And yet here they were.
Soon as you surrender, what's inside will sweep on through
As the boundaries between us disappear
Years had passed since she'd first realized that she felt more for Mac Taylor than friendship. But they were friends; they had a line. A line that wasn't to be crossed. She was okay with it; she rather had him as a friend, her best friend, than not at all. And he - well, he didn't see more in her than what they'd once silently agreed on to be for each other; she had always been so sure of it.
Now, however, she began to doubt it. The way he moved with her, the way he held her, how his thumb caressed her hand, ghosting over her skin in the gentlest of touches, and most of all, the way he looked at her - how his eyes held hers, hypnotized her, made her drown in these forest colors of his - this wasn't what a dance between friends should be like. Friends should keep that little bit of distance between their bodies, should chat and laugh together, talk about harmless things. They shouldn't remain silent and forget the world around them while their eyes couldn't get enough of each other.
And yet they got lost in the magic of the moment - the magic of a dance.
And ev'ry little step / Ev'ry single step / Is one step closer / To saying what you feel
Pulling or turning away never came to her mind when she saw his face inch closer and his eyes close. She simply let herself fall; into his embrace, the movements of his body, and the caress of his lips, possessing hers in a breathtaking kiss.
Finding a perfect dancing partner was like finding the perfect partner to spend your life with. It was all about rhythm, harmony, symbiosis - feeling. There were many out there who were good, who made an acceptable and enjoyable match. But there was, for every person, always only one being who defined as the perfect match.
As Mac was guiding her over the dance floor, his touch still lingering on her lips, Stella knew she had found her perfect dance partner.
And while his feet moved with hers in this perfect unison, in a language of their own, in his eyes she saw everything neither of them would ever have had the courage to say out loud.
Dancing is a language that is felt instead of heard
But it says much more than language ever could...
FIN