Learning to Dance

sure yet which he was dealing with tonight.
“I’m all grown up now,” she said, reaching for her drink.
As she did, someone behind her tripped, knocking her into
Up. Quickly he wrapped his arms around her, more to
prevent her from attacking anyone than anything else. She
writhed around to yell at the perpetrator.
“Mira por dónde vas, o te sacaré de las entrañas!”
Up chuckled, and she turned to look up at him. Suddenly
the clinking glasses and chortles of laughter around him
faded and he was transported to a stone balcony and a warm
night on Europa, remembering the subtle scent of her, the
softness of her lips, reliving the rightness of his hands at the
small of her back. Her eyes softened just a little bit, and he
wondered if maybe – just maybe – she was thinking of the
same thing.
They didn’t talk about it. They had never talked about it,
what had happened between Mr. and Mrs. von Tuppington
on that balcony.
Now Taz pressed her palm against his chest, a gentle,
questioning touch. He wondered if she could feel how fast
his heart was beating. She traced the G.L.E.E. insignia on
his casual uniform, then each button in turn, her fingers
exploring their way down his shirt. So this was definitely
flirty Tequila Taz.
“Taz,” he said, though he wanted nothing more than for
her to continue. “Don’t.” Not tonight. Not here. Not like
this.
She stiffened in his arms, and for a moment, hurt flashed
in her eyes. It was quickly replaced by anger. He let her go
and she picked up her forgotten drink.
“Sorry, Commander,” she said. “My mistake.” She
downed the liquor and threw the shot glass on the floor
where it shattered, causing a few patrons nearby to jump.
Giving him a sloppy salute she turned, disappearing into the