fandomhigh | Valentine's Day Dance. The Gym. 8.30 pm

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dance

Valentine's Day Dance. The Gym. 8.30 pm

The gym was decorated, the DJs were playing, and the punch was not yet spiked.

Fandom High's Valentine's Day Dance had begun.

[ooc: OCD threads ~~coming~~ are up. Post ~~before I've finshed and I will burninate you.~~ away! :)]

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As he'd promised Susan, Josh had found two non-tippy chairs and situated them near-ish to the punch bowl.

He was sticking with soda because he had a delicate system.

Yeah. Delicate system. He was sticking with that.

"Is this seat taken, or can I collapse here and watch the ensuing festivities?" Susan smiled, her hair down for once, and took a small cup of punch. "Is it spike yet?"

Josh looked up and smiled. "It's all yours," he said, gesturing. "And the punch, this far, remains sadly unspiked." He shook his head. "Kids today, huh?"

"No sense of initiative, our students. I'm very sad about it. Give them monsters, and they can hit them with coffee, give them a dance, and they resist putting in something flammable." Susan took a sip and crossed her legs, cocking her head as she studied DJ Ares. "Well. He's certainly... something."

"Something flammable, even. I mean that much polyester...is that even legal?"

"Do they have actual fashion police here, do you think?" Susan asked, studying Ares with unwilling fascination. "Is it me, or does he look like Elvis? I must be going mad."

"He really does have an Elvis-y kind of vibe. Well, skinny Elvis, anyway. But with kind of Billy Ray Cyrus hair that doesn't do him any favors."

Susan flashed him a smile. "I shall take your word for it, and be glad I'm not current on who that is. The other DJ though--" She shook her head, eyes wide at Aphrodite. "Well. I wish I had her-- moxie?"

"Moxie is a good way of putting it," Josh said, trying not to gawk too obviously.

Susan puts a hand up to her mouth to hide the smile, and shakes her head. "I suppose she has the excuse of being an entertainer?" She cocked her head at Josh. "And you look quite dashing tonight as well."

"Well, let me just how how glad I am that I decided against the white spandex jumpsuit. I mean, wearing the same outfit? How embarrassing." Josh smiled. "And you look beautiful."

"Thank you." Susan smiled and stretched out her legs. "I just got back from England, actually. I had to check on some things there. I'm lucky not to be jet-lagged." She looked around studying the decorations, then blinking at an anatomically correct heart that appeared to be bleeding. "I take it the students did the artwork?"

Josh noticed a stick-Cupid shooting other stick figures in the ass. "Um, looks like," he said, rolling his eyes. "So, how was England?"

Susan sighed. "Rather... odd, after this place." She shook her head. "I don't think I'll be going back at all. I'm not certain there's anything left for me there." She shrugged lightly.

Josh watched her face. "I think I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "Work stuff or family?"

Susan winced. "Work. I don't have any family, really." She watched a few of the kids dancing, then blurted, "The thing is, in 1962 England, after this week's events I think I'll be utterly unhire-able for the next forty years. So why not skip it to where I already have a job?" She sighed. "I'll miss a few friends, but that's all."

Josh nodded. "This place really does do a number on your resume, huh?"

He looked over at her. "I'm glad to see you back, if that means anything."

"Thank you, actually, it does." She smiled at him, brightening. "As exiles go, I think this is the one I'd choose." She cocked her head, listening to the Sinead O'Connor song. "Dance with me?"

"I'm not very good at it," Josh warned, "but I'd love to." He stood up and held out his hand.

Susan smiled and got to her feet. "Don't worry, it's been years. And I've no wish for them to point at the School Counselor as a 'nerd' who's trying too hard." She took his hand and swayed with the music as they walked out to the dance floor.

I haven't traveled this far to become
No man's woman
No Man's woman

Josh was muttering to himself, "This hand goes here, that one there..."

Properly situated, he smiled at Susan. "Okay. Here we go. Apologies in advance for anything that happens to your feet."

"Apologies accepted, as long as you don't mind any clunkiness on my part," Susan said. "And one, and two, and three..." She rolled her eyes at herself. "And wouldn't this be so much easier with ballroom rules?"

"Probably wouldn't help me much," Josh said, leading Susan with, well, not great aplomb, but at least in a credible well.

"The inaugural balls are more about getting drunk and mocking Ted Kennedy than dancing," he said.

"And what has that particular Kennedy done to be so mocked?" Susan wondered, following him and at least keeping her balance. "Oh, I'm sorry! Was that your foot?"

"I've got two," Josh said, smiling, "Not a big deal." He moved them away from a couple of students. "And in this particular incident, Senator Kennedy had gotten good and drunk and was intent on leading the 1500 donors packed into the Kennedy Center in the Macarena." He shuddered dramatically. "It was horrifying."

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