Learning to Dance

stepped out as steadily as she could on three-and-a-quarter
inch heels. Water dribbled from the mouth of one, and
nudges and raised eyebrows went around the room.
Someone whistled.
“Looking good, Taz!”
“Muy sexy, Lieutenant!”
“Watch it, Wadowski,” she said. “I’m still armed.”
Up stood on the balcony, hands behind his back and
taking in the view of the city. Approaching him, Taz barely
had time to register how nice his shoulders looked in the
black of his tuxedo jacket before he turned and saw her.
He went very still, as she raised her arms and played her
part, doing a stupid, girlish twirl, feeling the light fabric of
the dress whirl around her. All the chemicals they’d used in
her hair must be affecting her. “So what do you think, Dr.
von Tuppington?”
Up went into some kind of coughing fit. “Wow,” he said,
finally. “Who are you and what have you done with my
lieutenant?”
She whacked him on the arm, and he laughed and
offered it to her. She slipped hers through the crook of his
elbow - it was starting to feel natural to have it there. “You
look beautiful, mi querida,” he said. “But you always do.”