fandomhigh | Welcome Dance

Current Mood: celebratory
Current Music: Dusted Bunnies - latest hits

Entry tags:

dance

Welcome Dance - the Gym

The streamers and banners are up. So are a zillion multi-colored helium balloons.

The floor is cleared, and the bandstand is up at the north side of the room, ready for Dusted Bunnies to take their places.

The refreshment table, with the (as yet) unspiked punch is in place. There are chips and stuff as well, Chex mix, a few nachos and some guacamole.

Party on, dudes! And welcome to Fandom High.

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"Better her than me," Anakin said with a wry smile.

He took another sip of his punch, completely out of topics of conversation.

He was really, really bad at dances, too.

Not that Jedi went to many.

"Yep," Rory nodded.

She wondered what it was about this things that was so inherently awkward. She was perfectly capable of talking usually. But dim the lights and throw her by a punch bowl, and suddenly she was at her most shy.

The band wrapped the Ramones cover they had been playing, and took up a slower tempo.

Rory flushed crimson and stared at her feet.

Anakin blushed, too, but held out a hand. "I don't suppose I could convince you to dance, could I?" he asked. "As friends, of course," he said for the benefit of any shrubbery that might be listening.

Rory smiled, and took his hand. "Okay. As friends, of course. Um. Maybe somewhere where not a lot of people will be looking at us, though? You know how I get self-conscious."

"And that's before you've seen me dance," Anakin said. He looked around and found a dark corner (but not that dark corner where everyone else was hanging out). He pointed towards it. "Over there okay?"

Rory nodded, starting to walk over to said corner. "A nice, unoccupied dark corner, where it's not even likely people will look or notice or judge our dancing. And you can't be that bad. Slow-dancing is easy."

"Let's find out," Anakin said with a smile once they got to their secluded little spot, holding his arms out.

He'd had lessons. And had even paid attention.

Rory flailed mentally, but managed to keep her composure outwardly. Sort of.

She awkwardly put her arms around Anakin's neck, and then paused, looking at him.

"I don't know how you want to do this. Like is it okay just like this, or do you want to do the more formal way where you hold one of my hands, or....um...." She shrugged a little helplessly. "I've danced both ways. It doesn't matter to me."

Anakin glanced around and noticed that most of the people in the room seemed to be following Rory's method.

He put his hands around her waist and pulled her just slightly too close.

"I think I like this way," he murmured in her ear.

Rory stole a glance around the room, smiling as she saw that everyone seemed far too engrossed in their own dance partners to pay their dark little corner any mind.

"Good," she whispered, adjusting her arms. "Because this is the best way for very good friends like us to dance."

"Mmm," Anakin agreed. "Much better than the stuffy formal way that I had to learn for the very, very rare diplomatic functions that Jedi can stop watching the doors and actually have, and I use the term very loosely, fun."

"And likewise, much better than the stupid waltzes I had to learn for my debut," Rory said. "Especially since I'm not corsetted into a gown and wearing stupid opera gloves. Though I should've worn my tiara."

Anakin smiled and pulled Rory just a little closer. "Trust me. Until you've seen the Queen of Naboo in her full ceremonial ensemble, complete with a dress that I'm pretty sure lit up from underneath, you haven't seen the most ridiculous in dress attire."

Belatedly he realized that bringing up Padmé might not be the smartest idea.

"Okay, that wins. Though I like the idea of clothing that lights up," Rory laughed softly. "But I was in white. Me. In white. It's as though they designed the whole concept of the debutante to make me look as ghostly as possible."

She was fully aware she was babbling. But she also really didn't care very much.

Anakin had no idea about fashion. He had eight of the exact same outfit, which he had been wearing for the last decade.

"Uh-huh," he said. "What's a debutante, anyway?"

"S'the term for sixteen year-old girls who have pushy parents - or, in my case, grandparents - who force said girls to make their 'debut' into society. It's a stupid ceremony," Rory said, moving just an eensy bit closer.

"Sounds familiar," Anakin said. "Um, not for me, but just in general. Wear a silly outfit, parade out in front of people, get holos taken?"

He smiled. "I can't count the number of ceremonies like that I've had to attend." He lowered his head. "No one nearly as beautiful as you at any of them," he whispered.

Rory felt herself go warm.

"I would totally kiss you for that if not for, y'know...people," she murmured, wondering if it would be too suspicious to rest her head on his shoulder.

"You can give me one later," Anakin said with a smug smile on his face. "Maybe even more than one."

"Oh no, just the one. I don't want you to get overly confident," Rory smiled.

Anakin stuck his lower lip out. "You're so mean to me."

Then he laughed. "Okay, that's totally not true."

"I am horrible, I know," Rory smirked. "You're too kind to put up with me, really."

"I should get an award," Anakin said, nodding. "Or a statue or something."

"A medal," Rory agreed, also nodding.

Oops, it seemed her head had ceased to nod so that it leaned onto Anakin's shoulder. Nothing to be done about that.

"Or at least snazzy theme music or something."

Anakin was certainly not going to complain about Rory leaning against him.

At all.

"When I'm ruling the galaxy with an iron fist, I'll demand snazzy theme music," he said. "And a cape. And minions. And, um, decent music on the radio."

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