[SOL! Verse - Just a Dance]

[nyota_uhura24]

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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[nyota_uhura24]

She was acutely aware of his hand on her hip, of the way the angle of his fingers against her changed slightly as she moved with the music. He heart was still racing and it was a little difficult to breathe, but she didn't want to stop, not when he was staring into her eyes and they were moving so perfectly with the music. It felt as if she was made to move like this with him, and she knew right then and there that she had to really learn to dance, no matter what. The rumba made her feel differently than the waltz, made something spark inside her as he guided her around the empty diner. She was definitely looking at him a little curiously, and something like wonder crept into her expression as well, because he brought into her life the dances she'd dreamed of.

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.”

[owns_the_chair]

What was usually routine for Jim suddenly became infinitely more interesting and meaningful with the brilliant smile she gave him. Something about her made him want to just hold her in his arms, made him want to make sure she always smiled like that, always had that twinkle of wonder in her eyes. That he'd put that look into those deep, beautiful depths made him just a little bit giddy, made his grip on her tighten minutely. This would be all the contact he'd ever get to have with her, and he was going to treasure every moment of it.

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.

[nyota_uhura24]

Her eyes widened a little when he tangled his fingers with hers and brought them to rest against his chest. He'd technically been holding her hand all along, but this felt different. She wondered if it was a part of the dance but decided not to ask.

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.

[owns_the_chair]

The music faded out in the background, but he didn't really notice, just kept moving in the slow rhythm with her. "I was hoping you would," he smiled softly and gave her hand a little squeeze. "I don't make promises I'm not inclined to keep." Especially not to her, and especially when it meant getting to spend more time with her, close to her like they were now, maybe even get to know her better. He had little doubt that a lot of things went on in her head that were never verbalized because it wasn't proper for a woman, particularly a black woman, to speak her mind about them. And he wanted to hear her speak her mind.

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..."

[nyota_uhura24]

He kept guiding her around the diner even after the song ended, and she found that she really didn't want to stop dancing with him. Even without music they moved in harmony. Her eyes widened a little when he repeated the promise, and she felt a little thrill of anticipation. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what else he could do, if he'd been to college, if he spoke other languages, but she forced herself not to. They really didn't know each other well, and he was already being generous by teaching her to dance. Besides, when she really started talking about all the things that interested her, she sometimes got too excited and said a little too much. “I'll hold you to that,” she said instead, the hint of a challenge in her voice.

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."

[owns_the_chair]

She leaned into him and the dance almost slowed to a halt, their bodies swaying gently to the music. He closed his eyes and expelled a long breath, trying to dispel the images of how it would be to kiss her. It would be so easy to just dip his head a little, trail his lips over those beautiful, high cheekbones of hers and seek out her mouth. Clenching his jaw, he fought against the urge to do just that, even as his cheek slid alongside hers. "I know... I won't tell anyone. How about my place on Monday? You can drop by at seven, I'll be home by then."

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.

[nyota_uhura24]

It definitely made her feel guilty to sneak around like this, but there was no harm in what they were doing, and dancing with him was too wonderful for her to ever want to stop. She tried to convince herself that it wouldn't really be that big of an issue if anyone knew, that it was just easier to keep this between the two of them, but it wasn't exactly working. I am allowed to have this, she thought firmly to herself. I'm not hurting anyone. In the back of her mind was another thought, whispered and painful but empowering none the less: Mother would have approved. She took a deep breath. “Monday works for me. Where do you live?”

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.

[owns_the_chair]

"Give a second, I'll write it down for you." He took the opportunity she offered him to end the dance, and made his way out to the counter to jot down his address on a slip of paper. It had the benefit of giving him a moment to collect himself and clear his head. Something that was a lot easier when he wasn't tempted to submerge himself in deep, brown pools of warmth and let the unique scent that was just her suffuse his senses. As the pen moved swiftly across the paper, he rebuked himself sharply for letting desire cloud his reason. If she'd noticed that the dance they'd indulged in was a far cry from any standard, she hadn't let on. She obviously had more sense than he did, and it just went to show that he shouldn't have let it go that far.

He tapped the pen against the counter a few times and stared down at the scribbled words as if they held the answers to the mysteries of the universe. True to his usual, impulsive self, he'd made her a promise. One he wasn't about to back out of. Sam had always said that his tendency to leap without looking would land him in trouble one day, and he may have been more right than he'd wanted to be. Jim would certainly have to be very, very careful to not let it be anything other than dancing lessons again.

Decision made, he walked back into the kitchen and handed her the note. "There you go. It's not the Four Seasons, but... It's there, and it serves its purpose." Scratching the back of his neck, he intensely hoped that her brother showed up soon. Preferably before he was tempted beyond reason again. "And trust me, you won't thank me when your feet feel like they're about to fall off because I've made you repeat the same steps for hours. If I'm going to teach you, I'm going to do it right. The fact that you're not paying me just gives me the luxury of not having to coddle you, but make sure you actually learn. Beyond what you need for vapid dances and lackluster ballrooms. You're gonna hate me before the first month is over."

[nyota_uhura24]

“Thanks,” she replied, still smiling as he walked out into the restaurant. She leaned against one of the kitchen counters, wondering why her heart still refused to be calm. Now that he was gone it was impossible to fight the feeling of loss that he was no longer holding her so close, swaying with her to the music, sliding his cheek along hers almost as if he was about to - What in the world are you thinking about? She forced her mind not to wander in such ludicrous and inappropriate directions, and to focus instead on how wonderful it had been to dance like that with him, and the fact that she was going to get to dance with him again soon. When she thought about it, she really couldn't stop smiling, nor could she stop herself from... wondering about him. She wondered what his place looked like, what else he did in his spare time, what he was like when he wasn't the diner's musician.

Her musings came to an end when he walked back into the kitchen and handed her the note. She accepted it happily and read the address. Ah, it'll be easy to get there if I take the 2. It wasn't a part of town she went to often - just one more thing about this that made it an adventure. She listened with growing excitement as he explained that he wasn't going to coddle her, that he was actually going to teach her right. It sounded like a challenge, and as always she planned to meet it head on. “I'm looking forward to it. There's no point in learning something if you don't learn it the right way.” There was amusement and affection in her eyes as she added, “And I could never hate you, Jim, though I don't promise not to complain if my feet hurt afterward.”

She was almost giddy, and suddenly felt the need to look away. Her eyes fell on the clock, and her smile faded a little. “Kamau should have been here ages ago,” she said suddenly. “I wonder if he got held up somewhere.” It wasn't like her brother to be so late. She shrugged and looked back at Jim. “You.. don't have to wait with me. I'm sure he'll show up soon.”

[owns_the_chair]

As expected, she took him up on his subtle challenge, though his smile turned a little wry when she said she could never hate him. While he hoped that was true, wanted it to be true, he knew that she would if he acted on the more or less constant impulse to get closer to her, to get as close as he could and wake up with her in his bed.

"I'll hold you to that, and a little complaining is acceptable. Lord knows I whined my mom's ears off when she taught me," he rolled his eyes at the memory and leaned a little closer to whisper as if he was sharing a great secret. "I'd much rather have been out in the old barn tinkering with my bike than learning how to foxtrot. If it hadn't been because she bribed me shamelessly with new spare parts, I'd have two left feet today."

The softness of her smile and the affection in her eyes were reflected in his own expression and another little jolt of electricity cracked through the air. This time, though, he was sure she noticed it too, because she snapped her eyes away and looked at the clock. "Maybe. I'm sure he'll be here soon." When she looked at him again, he gave her a small shrug and stretched his arms over his head, making his joints pop. "Nah, 's alright. You're much better company than my ceiling."

[nyota_uhura24]

When he leaned closer to whisper conspiratorially, she felt a little shiver run down her spine, but resolutely ignored it and focused on what he was saying. There was fondness in his voice as he talked, and it made her laugh softly to imagine him as a child who probably thought a lot of things were more fun than dancing. “Well, I'm thankful to your mother, then. I know you said it's a frustrating job sometimes, but you still seem happy, when you're dancing, even if it's not as exciting as working on a bike."

Her expression turned slightly nostalgic. “My mother used to work part time as a waitress at the Savoy when she was younger. It was this huge ballroom over on Lenox Avenue,” she added, not sure how familiar he was with Harlem. “Once she took me back to visit, and I watched the dancing from the kitchen. It was incredible, to see the whole floor full of people spinning and dipping and smiling. They even let blacks and whites dance together. My mom noticed how much I liked it and told me that maybe one day she'd convince dad to let me learn, but...” She shrugged. Her mother wasn't around to convince her father of anything.

It really was far too easy to talk to him, and far too easy to get lost in his eyes. “Well that's quite a compliment, Jim. I'm honored.”

[owns_the_chair]

"I was lucky, I got pretty good at both. Though I could have done without the trauma of learning latin dancing with my b- mother. It's... yeah..." He shuddered theatrically to cover up for his almost slip and hoped she didn't pick up on it. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk about Sam, but it would inevitably lead to questions and make him trudge through a lot of memories that were better left in peace.

So he listened to her talk about her mother in turn and her story brought a smile to his face. He'd heard a few whisperings about what had happened to Mrs. Uhura, but hadn't wanted to ask any questions. Grief was a private matter and should only be shared by the choice of the people who carried it. "I remember the Savoy. It was a great place, I was sad to see it close."

He paused, then gave her hand a gentle little squeeze. "Can't say much about convincing your dad, but it seems both you and your mom are getting what you wanted. We'll find a new Savoy for you to dance at. And trust me, you're a lot more interesting than watching the paint peel off slowly."

[nyota_uhura24]

She caught the small slip, but just smiled and laughed along. She certainly wasn't going to ask about things he clearly didn't want to share. “You're talking about motorbikes?” she asked instead. “Do you still have one?”

It didn't really surprise her that he knew that Savoy. It was fairly famous even outside of Harlem, or so she'd heard. “Me too. I'd always hoped I'd get a chance to dance there,” she replied. Memories of her mother made her smile, gave her strength, even though it hurt to think about the fact that she wasn't around, and to think about how losing her had changed her father irrevocably.

Her eyes widened slightly when he squeezed her hand, and she tentatively squeezed back, resisting the strange compulsion to lace her fingers with his. Her eyes lit up a little at the prospect of finding a replacement for the Savoy. “I'd love to find another ballroom to dance at," she replied, though she knew there weren't many that would allow her and Jim to dance together. "She'd be happy to see me dancing. I do wish I could tell my dad, but...” There were just some things it was better for him not to know, and although she didn't want to say it she was afraid that her father would be angry at Jim if he found out.

“Hmm,” she said, pretending to consider his last comment for a moment. “My ceiling is pretty interesting, but I don't suppose it'll teach me how to dance.”

[owns_the_chair]

The fact that his little slip went unnoticed made him feel more comfortable sharing more with her. "Yep. I do. I don't drive it around much, the subway's easier, but... I take her out when I can. I put her together from nuts and bolts. She's a pretty great bike."

She returned the light squeeze and he had to fight the urge to put his arm around her. They'd already been down that road once tonight, and it had nearly ended in disaster, so it was better to keep things as light and friendly as possible. Even if the touch made his hand tingle oddly. "We'll find a ballroom for you, I promise. And you know how I am about making promises," he joked and ran his thumb over the back of her hand.

"I know. Despite how open-minded he is, you're still his daughter and I'm still the white boy teaching you something he can't. It's the way things are. We can try to change them, bit by bit, but Rome wasn't built in one day. It's not just about civil rights, though that's a vital part of it. It's about changing the way people think..." He shook his head and snorted in wry amusement. "Just think, maybe in thirty, or fifty years, a guy like me can walk down the street holding hands with a girl like you. Take her out dancing anywhere they want to go, put his arm around her at the movies and steal a kiss or two, and no one will think anything of it. Because they'd be equals in the eyes of the world. Because they are equals, people are just too goddamn blind to see it. I hope I live to see that day..."

[nyota_uhura24]

For some reason the idea of him riding a motorbike made her grin. It suited him. “Somehow it doesn't surprise me that you built it yourself.” She knew nothing about them, but she could imagine him carefully choosing the right parts, could visualize the excited look on his face when he'd added or improved something.

Her gaze dropped briefly to his hand on hers, then flickered back to his eyes as he promised her a ballroom. “And you know that I'll hold you to that promise,” she answered, already looking forward to it. Her breath hitched ever so slightly as he ran his thumb over her hand, and it struck her that she should pull her hand away, but the contact was too comforting, and surely this was nothing to be concerned about after the way they'd danced.

The way he started talking surprised her, and she looked at him carefully. She'd known that he was open-minded - his music had made that clear right from the start - but it was still strange to hear him vocalize it like this. When he painted her a picture of hands entwined and stolen kisses, her mind supplied an image of the two of them that she immediately shook off and forced herself not to think about. Still, his words about equality went straight to her heart, and she nodded, a considering expression on her face. She didn't usually talk about these things, especially with white men, but Jim was different. She inhaled shortly and looked straight at him as she replied. “That day is going to come, when we learn to stop inventing arbitrary reasons to hate each other and realize that we're not really all that different... And maybe the daughter of that couple you described will be able to go to any college she wants. Maybe her career choices won't be limited by the fact that she's a woman, because we're all equal.” She held his gaze for a moment, wondering if she should be saying these things to him, and then looked away. She believed that the world was going to change - it was a hope her father had instilled in her and one she couldn't give up - but it was frustrating anyway.

“My father's a good man,” she added, voice soft. “He has reasons not to be open-minded, but that hasn't stopped him.”

[owns_the_chair]

"I wouldn't have it any other way. I expect you to hold me to it. Can't promise how long it'll take though. I might just end up having to build you a ballroom," he joked, but there was a grain of both truth and seriousness in it.

She weighed his every word, and when he'd finished speaking, he could practically hear the cogs turning in her mind. It was obvious she hadn't expected him to say what he did, but she seemed to approve. And then there was that glimmer of intelligence, of pride and of knowing she deserved better than what life was giving her, shining brightly in her eyes. But along with that was an unspoken challenge, daring him to disagree with her. He didn't, but he couldn't resist teasing her a little. He gasped in mock surprise and put his hand on his chest, feigning shocked outrage. "Never! Women are born for nothing but cooking for men and bearing their sons. They don't have the brains for education!"

He kept a relatively straight face for all of about five seconds, then broke down and laughed. "I'm sorry, I agree with you. It's just... The idea that what we have between our legs has any influence over our intelligence is just too absurd not to poke fun at." His laughter died down to a soft chuckle and he cleared his throat before he became more serious again. "The only time that difference really matters is in the bedroom and on the way there. We're really all just people. Yes, we look different, but that's life. It's the differences that make things interesting."

Her hand was still holding onto his, and he brought it up to gently kiss the back of it. "You're an amazing woman, Uhura. Don't ever let anyone change you or tell you different. I know your father's a good person. He's changing his little corner of the world the only ways he can and the ways he knows how. It's up to us to change our little corners and roll with the punches people throw at us. If we don't, nothing's ever going to change."