[SOL! Verse - Just a Dance]
It was Jim's third weekend as the diner's regular musician. There hadn't been any real trouble since that first night, though Nyota's father had insisted that if anyone harassed Jim again that she come get him immediately. Nyota just hoped it never became an issue. She and her father were both thrilled to have a musician whose music really meant
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The thing was that she always smiled when his eyes met hers, and she always moved so perfectly to his music, even if she was working. It was like she put the notes of his music into physical form, gave them a shape and easy grace that just... Fit. He couldn't help tease her a little from time to time, just to see that slightly confused and shy smile on her face. But apart from that, they'd struck up something close to a friendship. The little conversation they'd had a chance to hold had been interesting, and each time he challenged her in words or in deeds, she stepped up to the plate and proved once more that he should never underestimate her.
To make things even better, most guests at Uhura's genuinely seemed to like whatever he threw at them, even some of his more experimental stuff, and Mr. Uhura certainly encouraged him to pursue that artistic style.
So he'd taken to staying after hours, just to help with whatever he could and to enjoy the ambiance of the small diner. Tonight, Mr. Uhura had taken his other daughters home, so he was alone with the eldest for a short time. It was a prospect that sent a little thrill of both excitement and apprehension through him, but it wouldn't be for long. Her brother would soon be there.
Jim finished locking up after the last guests had left and made his way into the kitchen. He leaned on the door frame and smiled softly as she moved about and sang, observing her in silence for a moment before he spoke up. "If you do that in front of your dad, I'll be out of a job, Miss Uhura."
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The voice startled her, and she looked over sharply to see Jim leaning against the door frame. Her eyes softened and her lips curved in an amused smile. He'd surprised her, but she wasn't embarrassed that he'd caught her singing. By now he was certainly used to the fact that she and her sisters sung after hours. “Don't worry, Jim. I already turned him down when he offered me your job," she teased. "Besides, I don't play any instruments.” She couldn't help feeling a small pang at the truth of the last statement. It was one more thing she'd always wanted; one more thing she'd never have.
It struck her suddenly that she and Jim were actually alone in the restaurant, and it made her heart beat a little faster. She ignored it; there was really nothing odd about being here after hours with one of her coworkers, especially not one whom she considered a friend. “Have you eaten?” she asked, partly to distract her from her thoughts and partly because she wanted to make sure that he wasn't hungry.
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The pet name was used deliberately. She'd always insisted on him addressing her properly, and it had become something of a game for him to find little loop holes where he could get away with names like that for her.
"Actually, I have. My last lesson for today canceled, so I got off early. I even had time for a shower and a quick nap before I came." As for the reason he suspected his student had canceled, well... Uhura didn't need that little detail. It seemed he'd been successful in making it clear her carte blanche had been permanently revoked. Jim just hoped she wouldn't cause more trouble then she already had. He needed the hours to keep his small apartment, dammit.
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She shot him a sharp look when he called her gorgeous. He was just teasing her, but she still felt the compulsion to insist on being called Miss Uhura, even if there was something about him that made her want to prove that she wasn't hung up on propriety. “That's Miss Gorgeous to you," she replied, mock-serious. "And you could hardly blame the crowd for preferring me, though no one writes music like yours, Jim.”
She turned to take care of the dishes from her and Sadiki's late dinner. "So normally you're neither clean nor rested when you come to work? That's good to know." Smiling wryly, she added, "The lunch rush didn't die down today until late afternoon, so I didn't have time to go home in between, but I ended up falling asleep in my dad's office for a little while."
After the dishes were dry, she glanced around. Most everything else was already taken care of, meaning she just had to wait for Kamau. Actually, he should already have arrived. She wondered if he was caught up somewhere. Her eyes found Jim's again. It wasn't unusual for him to be around after hours, but she suddenly felt a little strange because there was nothing left for him to help with. She wondered if he would leave. "Thank you for helping out."
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Done with the cleaning, he tossed the rag into the sink and strode over to lean on the counter next to her, chuckling at her speculations. "Rested? No. Clean? Yes. I usually take a quick shower at the studio before I get here. You work up quite a sweat dancing all day."
Her eyes met his again and there was a moment of silence as he felt her eyes drawing him in again. He felt himself lean ever so slightly towards her, then snapped out of it and looked away, bumping his shoulder lightly against hers. "We're in a tough business, you and I. But whatever brings home the bacon, huh?"
He wasn't sure he could meet her eyes again just without letting it show that he really just wanted to sit her down on the counter and just... touch her. Massage her shoulders, or maybe her feet. Any tiny little part of her. So he stared at his feet for a while as he spoke, though he was still smiling. It seemed impossible not to smile around her. "Don't mention it. You feed me often enough, it's the least I can do. The offer about dancing lessons is still open, by the way. I just... didn't want to embarrass you in front of your sisters again."
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When he explained that he was in fact clean when he came to work, she laughed softly before her expression turned slightly wistful. “I still can't believe you get to dance all day.” She knew that he worked hard, but it still sounded more like a dream than like real life.
When his eyes met hers, she felt that familiar sensation of falling into crystalline pools, but then he looked away sharply and bumped her shoulder. She hadn't realized until that moment just how close he was standing, and it startled her slightly and made her heart race a little. That seemed to happen a lot when he was around. She tried not to feel bereft now that he'd deprived her of that incredibly blue gaze. “I suppose we both do what we have to do, though I still say you have the better job.”
She was about to remind him that she'd promised not to let the entertainment starve, but then he was offering her dance lessons again, and her heart did a little flip in her chest. “You didn't embarrass me,” she insisted, though it wasn't really true. For a moment she considered, feeling uncertain and not entirely sure why. It was just a dance; there was no reason to treat it as if it was the sort of decision she would look back on later as an important one. She inhaled shortly and then stepped in front of him, reaching for his hand. “Will you show me the waltz again? That was the dance you showed me the first time, right?” Her other hand settled on his shoulder as she looked at him expectantly.
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That he hadn't embarrassed her as much as he'd thought was more of a relief that it should have been, rationally, and when he was about to expound and explain himself, she surprised him again by stepping in front of him and took his had. And there was that little spark of electricity again, the one that made his breath catch in his throat. For the first time since he'd met her, it was her who was challenging him, not the other way around. He'd never really learned to back down from a challenge.
He straightened up and held onto her hand, his eyes meeting hers again. "It was, yeah. But I was thinking of something that can be as slow or as fast as you want it to. Something that won't tire us both out. But I'm not humming my way through a dance lesson, I'd be useless on stage tomorrow."
Without letting go of her hand, he led her out to the jukebox and selected a song with the right beat, a slow one. "So now, Miss Gorgeous, you are going to learn the rumba. Put your hand on my hip. You'll usually have it high on my shoulder, but this'll help you learn the moves. You dance the rumba with your hips more than any other body part." His own free hand settled on her hip and he studied her face carefully for any signs that he was making her uncomfortable. "Now just follow my lead, just like last time."
Somehow, it was easier to keep himself from drowning in her eyes when he was touching her, when he could hold onto her, could use the feeling of her closeness to ground himself. He slowly began moving, slow, gliding strides over the floor, his hips swaying in time to the music. It was a sensual dance, but it was still within the boundaries of propriety since their hips weren't actually touching. It was close, but they didn't make contact. It was probably for the best they didn't, he sincerely doubted he'd be able to have her pressed up against him and not do something that would get him slapped across the face and fired tomorrow.
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He led her back out into the restaurant, and her eyes strayed down to his hand on hers, to long, musician's fingers. Her gaze flickered to the jukebox as he picked a song, the slow, melodious music instantly making her want to sway her hips. “You aren't really going to keep calling me Miss Gorgeous,” she said incredulously as she placed a hand on his hip. His explanation made perfect sense considering the choice of music; she was still barely resisting the urge to move her hips to the rhythm. He gave her a searching look, and she looked back at him calmly. He'd definitely thrown her off a little when he took her hand and danced with her in front of the kitchen staff, but this was different. There was no one to make whispered comments and she wasn't so caught off guard. “I think I can do that,” she said, smiling.
There was no rise and fall in this dance. He was just gliding across the floor, hips swaying in a movement that fit the music perfectly. It took her a little while to adjust to the steps, but it matched the music so well and he moved with such certainty that if she relaxed her hold on herself it wasn't difficult to follow his movements. It wasn't difficult, but she could still feel a blush creeping across her cheeks. This didn't feel proper like the waltz, not when she could feel the sway of his hips under her hand, not when he was dancing so close to her. His eyes were on hers, and while this always made her a little breathless, now she felt as if there was no air in her lungs. Part of her mind was focused on how incredible it felt to move like this, to give physical expression to music this way, but she was still feeling a little flustered. The frustrating part was that she didn't really understand why she was reacting this way. It was just a dance, right?
“How am I doing?” she asked, because she had to say something to keep from just staring into his eyes and blushing harder.
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But right now, underneath that calm confidence, was an undercurrent of joy and - dare he hope? - fiery passion that she didn't know what to do with. There was a blush on her cheeks, but she didn't seem to notice or care, and it made him smile tenderly as they moved. "You'll only be Miss Gorgeous to me when we're alone. If for no other reason than the fact I'm pretty sure your dad would keelhaul me if I called you that in public."
It took a moment for her to pick up on the steps, but she soon fell into the slow rhythm of the dance and moved with him so seamlessly, so effortlessly, and he'd forgotten how she'd done that too when they were waltzing in the kitchen. For a moment, he lost himself in the slow glide of their movements, in her eyes and the warmth of her so close to him, and he almost missed her question. "You're a natural," he muttered, then added with a slight, humorous twitch of his lips. "But you're going to pass out if you don't remember to breathe right. Here, I'll show you." Releasing her hand, he put it on his other hip and put his own lightly on her solar plexus.
"Now this is where your center of gravity usually is. But not in this dance and that can mess with your breathing. We don't want that, so what you do is, you move your center down here," he pressed his fingers lightly against her abdomen just under her navel. "You keep your spine straight, like you're standing at attention, and you take deep breaths in time with your movements." He lifted his hand and put it on her shoulder, watching her shift and do as he'd instructed.
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She knew she was still blushing, but it didn't matter much when he was smiling at her so gently. She flashed him a grin when he said he'd only call her Miss Gorgeous when they were alone, and shook her head, amused. It was a ridiculous way to address her, but Jim was a little ridiculous, and she couldn't help but find it endearing. “I suppose I can allow you to address me that way in private,” she replied lightly. “But you're right, my father would most certainly disapprove.” She wondered if this meant she should disapprove as well, but surely it was harmless for him to call her by a pet name.
A wide smile stretched her lips when he said she was a natural. She wasn't entirely sure if he was just flattering her or not, but the idea made her smile anyway, and it felt natural. He told her that she wasn't breathing right, and she nodded, relieved that there was an explanation for the fact that her breath kept catching strangely in her throat. When his hand came to rest on her abdomen, her heart jumped into her throat and her stomach quivered slightly with surprise. She hadn't expected him to touch her like that, and it made the flush on her cheeks darken. Forcing herself to concentrate on what he was saying, she adjusted her position, taking a few deep breaths as she moved. She shook off the sensation of his fingers against her stomach, and it was easier to breath this way. “Thank you,” she said softly. “And thank you for teaching me, Jim. I've always wanted to learn.”
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She was still blushing, but somehow it fit her, made her slightly more within his league and without conscious thought, he twined their fingers together, resting their hands on his chest. "I'll teach you everything you want to learn..." he muttered, still meeting her eyes as they moved. The hand on her hip guided her closer, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he felt her body pressing lightly against his. A surge of desire rolled through him, so strongly his step almost faltered. He swallowed hard and let himself fall into the routine of teaching this dance, even if he'd never taught it quite this way before.
"To understand the rumba, to do it right, you need to understand the dance. It's a little like acting, actually..." While the words were part of his usual introduction to the dance, they soon took on a different quality and his face was inches from hers when he continued. "You have to pretend we want each other. Like... We're glued together everywhere we touch, but we both know we shouldn't be. We try to resist it, but it's a little hard when everything is just us and the music. I'll turn you like this--" he twirled her around and back into his arms so her back was pressed against him. "And we both know we shouldn't be touching, but we can't help it. You're too good for me, and you try to resist the slow burn... But I still try. That's the name of the game... It's about passion and desire, about forbidden love... Think you can act that out?"
The explanation was just a little close to the truth as he felt it for him to be entirely comfortable with it, but she was still there in his arms, still so close to him, and he couldn't let her go. Had to make this last for just a little while longer.
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His muttered promise made her smile soften. He was probably talking about just the dancing, but there were so many things she'd always wanted to learn. It always felt that no matter how hard she tried, no matter how far she stretched her hand, some things were simply out of reach. Learning to dance properly had always been one of them, and then one day Jim had simply appeared in her life and made the impossible possible. I wonder if he really could teach me other things. She instantly shook off the thought; it was ridiculous for her to get her hopes up. “You should be careful making a promise like that,” she murmured. “I might just take you up on it.”
She nearly jumped and couldn't withhold a soft gasp when she actually felt his body brush against her. He breathed in sharply as well, and she figured it must have been accidental, except he wasn't moving away. She was beginning to realize that dancing like this was the sort of thing her family really would disapprove of, and she glanced towards the door, but there was still no sign of Kamau. Her brother would be particularly incensed that she was dancing with a white boy. It doesn't make any difference what he looks like, she thought firmly, looking back at him with a little more conviction, and then swallowing hard because he was so much closer than she expected him to be.
It made sense that this dance was about forbidden love; one of her favorite things about music and dance was the stories they told, but she was a little thrown off by all the things he was saying. "You want me to... act out being in love with you?" she wondered aloud. "I... suppose I could try." She daydreamed sometimes about finding someone to really fall in love with, even though everyone expected her to marry Trent. When her eyes met his again, she stared into them and imagined loving him passionately, imagined being so drawn to him that she couldn't pull away, and this time as they moved she found herself intentionally moving closer, as if it really was inevitable. "I wouldn't be able to stay away, even though I'd know it could never be. I'd try to deny it but I'd still be drawn back to you every time, because the story's already written in the music." Every time they brushed against each other she felt a little shiver run down her spine. She wasn't sure where the words were coming from - books she'd read, perhaps - but it was an exhilarating fantasy.
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Her gaze shifted to the door, and he knew what she was thinking then. If her brother saw them dancing like this, there would be trouble regardless of how innocent the situation actually was. It didn't matter, that wouldn't be how it looked, wouldn't be how people would see it. He danced her over to the jukebox again and paused to get the music going again, then moved them in direction of the kitchen. "We'll hear him come in this way. Don't worry, you're not getting in trouble over this," he whispered as they entered the kitchen.
There wasn't as much room to dance in the kitchen, though, so their movements were limited to a certain extent. Still, what was important from an educational perspective was just that she got the steps and general movements down to begin with. She seemed to get the point of what he'd been trying to explain about the dance, and a tendril of the fire in her eyes curled up his spine, making him suppress a slight shudder as she moved even closer. "Something like that, yes. But you act it out with your body, with the way you move..."
As she spoke, he tried to remind himself that she was just doing as he'd instructed and pretending. Because hearing her talk like that was messing with his resolve to not do anything but dance with her. His gaze turned a little more heated as he looked at her, his heart beating a little harder each time she pressed up against him. He knew he was playing with fire here, but it might just be worth it to keep that look in her eyes. With a quiet sigh, he rested his cheek against the top of her head. He should move away, should stop this, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. "You could drop by my place sometime... I could teach you there... Or at the studio the days I don't have to come here. Up to you..."
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When he guided her into the kitchen, she felt a prick of something like guilt. It was one thing for her brother to disapprove, but she knew that her father wouldn't like the idea of her dancing like this either. It was easier to focus on Kamau, because they disagreed about so many things. He certainly wouldn't approve of Jim, with or without dancing. “It's probably better that he doesn't see this. My brother doesn't exactly see eye to eye with my father and I,” she said softly. It might just have been a comment, but there was a soft note of warning in her voice, perhaps even an apology. She was slightly apprehensive about them meeting, because even though Kamau hadn't bothered talking any more about it, she knew he didn't approve of her father's decision to hire Jim.
Something about the way he looked at her when she agreed to embrace the story behind the dance sent a little shiver down her spine, and she almost blinked in surprise at the reaction. It was a little too easy to pretend that she was in love with him, and for a moment she had the irrational fear that if she kept looking into his eyes she might fall into them and never find her way back out again. The story seemed to transform the dance, made it fee complete. It felt as if fire was slowly igniting in her chest, and she wasn't quite sure what to do with it except pour it into her dancing, into their story.
When he rested his cheek against her head, she leaned into the touch a little, wondering why her heart wouldn't calm its racing. This felt unbelievably natural, though soft warning bells were chiming in the back of her mind. When he offered to teach her she felt a rush of happiness so strong it startled her, and then a wave of doubt. Her family would not approve, but... she did everything they asked of her, lived the life they'd chosen for her. Was it so wrong to have just this one thing for herself? For a few moments she was torn, but even though part of her firmly believed it was the wrong decision, something else was stronger. “I would like that,” she replied, wondering what the best place for this was. Anyone might see her in the dance studio, though she doubted it was in a part of town where she'd know anyone. But still... “I could come to your place,” she suggested softly. “I only work the lunch shift Thursday through Sunday.” She took a deep breath. “Jim, if you're going to teach me, it's probably better that no one know about it. They... wouldn't understand."
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The fact that they had to keep something as innocent as teaching her to dance a secret just cemented how much he shouldn't even be thinking about kissing her, how he shouldn't be pressed this close up against her. It wasn't necessary for the dance, and he never danced this closely with any of his students, even if they sometimes tried to. The benefits of being both the teacher, and the one who led the dance were plentiful and very handy on occasion. And there had been a slight warning in her voice when she spoke of her brother. Even this could cause her so much trouble, and the last thing he wanted was to cause her any grief.
The repercussions were too severe, and it was only that which made him stop a few inches from her lips and pull back. "I think you've gotten the basics down now," he tried to explain why he was putting more distance between them, why he was moving away so only their hands touched again. The truth was, however, that if he didn't, he would kiss her, and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop kissing her until she gave and let him keep kissing her.
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His cheek was pressed against hers, and it made her heart jump into her throat. She knew that being this close together was probably part of the dance, but it kept catching her off guard, kept making her stomach squirm a little. It still made her feel strangely off balance, but moving like this just suited the music. The next time she heard a song with similar rhythms, it would be almost impossible not to add a little bit of rumba to the way she moved. Their movements had slowed down dramatically, and she let her eyes drift closed and sighed softly. This moment felt so peaceful, and for once she wasn't using the music to daydream about anything else. She was happy, just like this.
She felt strangely bereft when he pulled away but shook off the reaction and smiled warmly at him. “Thank you. It's... better than I imagined it would be,” she said, almost shyly, and was on the verge of telling him just how this dream was born before she tamped down on the words. Something about him made her want to just... tell him things. It was odd, because she didn't know him well, and even though he seemed open minded that didn't mean she should say whatever was on her mind.
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