(Untitled)

[ofthatantet]

It's the first Saturday in a long time she has a chance to sleep in; naturally, she's up at dawn. After a shower and shaving there's not anything to actually do for the next sixteen hours, though, except periodically open the fridge and check on the corsages (white roses, a red ribbon for her and a purple one for Laura), and check that her shoes

Comments

[cutting_edgex23]

"Rose," X says, shifting position so that she's facing the other girl, cup of punch held in one gloved hand.

"You are having fun?"

X has been dropping contractions for a good half hour now. Fortunately no one has noticed.

[ofthatantet]

"Yeah," she says quickly. "Are you?"

Rose still isn't sure if this was a good idea or a really bad one.

[cutting_edgex23]

"It is interesting," X says carefully.

And then--

"I am not good at slang."

[ofthatantet]

"It's okay," she says. "Remember, you're cool graduated out of town girl. Last time after you left everyone was talking about how relevant everything was for a month."

"Um, so--" She smiles quickly, there and gone. "I've been good. But." It's getting late. "Do you, maybe..."

"Want to dance?"

[cutting_edgex23]

X tilts her head slightly, studying Rose.

Then she nods, just once.

"Okay."

Beat.

"If you will not get in trouble."

She remembers Anole talking about his high school experience. He did not like it much.

[ofthatantet]

She shakes her head quickly, smiling tentatively. "Not trouble."

Drama, maybe. But it's prom.

This isn't a date. But she should get one dance, with someone she wants to dance with. That's not so much to ask.

"Um."

She's not sure how to start.

[cutting_edgex23]

X is not sure, either.

But, after a quick scan of the dance floor--

"We should not stand here."

There's a momentary hesitation, but she's seen other people do it, which means it is okay. Right?

X moves her hand to take Rose's wrist, preparatory to tugging her out onto the dance floor.

Weapons are good at blending in when the mission calls for it.

[ofthatantet]

She knew that part, Laura.

After a moment's hesitation, it seems unfair to make Laura take the lead to fulfill this--

whatever.

She steps a little closer, and puts her left hand on the other girl's hip, taking Laura's left in her right, trying to ignore the giddy feeling in her chest.

(Rose is one of the ones whose had ballroom training.) "You put your hand on my shoulder," she says in a quiet voice.

[cutting_edgex23]

"Okay," X says, frowning momentarily as she works out the physical requirements--minimum and maximum distances, minimum pressure, fingers interlocked or no--

And then she sets her hand on Rose's shoulder, the lace of the gloves just a little scratchy against skin.

"I will not step on your feet."

That much, at least, she's sure of.

[ofthatantet]

"It's a deal," she says. Trying for solemn.

For a little while, there is music. Soft lights. A little touch of magic. This isn't a date. She's not like other girls. But illusions are nice, while they last.

[wplainsdrifters]

Mr. Hairald stepped out of the room to take a phone call a few minutes ago; now he moves quickly, or as quickly as he can, through the dance floor. Headed for the stage. He's got one hand inside his coat pocket, and a pre-occupied expression.

[cutting_edgex23]

X goes stiff under Rose's hands, head turning very slightly to watch Mr Hairald move across the floor.

Until she knows what is going on there is no point in breaking cover.

But a lot more of her attention is focused on the room at large, now.

A lot more.

[ofthatantet]

Rose follows her gaze. "What's going on?"

It's like a bucket of water in her face; like a cold curtain falling over the world.

[cutting_edgex23]

"I do not know yet."

Her reply isn't intentionally curt, just efficient.

"He has a gun."

[ofthatantet]

"What."

Rose pulls away, moving through the dance floor a lot more quickly this time, moving to intercept him.

Her knife is clipped to a garter high on her right thigh; it's depressing that even the slit up the side of her dress has a purpose, but that's far from her mind as her hand blurs.

(Someone looking at just the right place at just the right time trips over his own feet and faceplants on the dancefloor.)

She doesn't snap the blade out yet, just cups the knife in her palm, her thumb on the notch.

[cutting_edgex23]

X moves a half-second after Rose does, but not in the same direction. Not quite. She slips into position at an angle to Rose, keeping herself between Mr. Hairald and the doors.

She's also careful to keep within earshot. (Her earshot.)

The less talking she and Rose have to do, the less anyone will know exactly who has information.

Just in case.