A drabble. Do enjoy, if you will.
Disclaimer: RENT, all its characters and affiliated logos belong to Jonathan Larson. I own nothing here but a minuscule spark of inspiration.
Any standard idiot could tell that the words "Magna cum Laude" upon her Master's degree in criminal justice meant 'with great praise.'
Any standard idiot however, could not tell the true effect of Mark's stunningly simple statement, that being with Maureen was a 'tango,' had on her being.
It's called the Tango: Maureen.
She had not… forgotten, per say, the years of Latin she'd gone through as a child in a private school, but she couldn't exactly place why those words echoed and didn't quite fully register in her mind once he'd said them.
Tango was as much a verb in the ancient language as it was in modern-day English. Except rather than the saucy dance most knew it as, it had a deviatingly unique meaning.
With the easy help of a dictionary, she still looked at being with the performer as a tango, but in a new mindset. While it was a difficult dance to master, it was not one without rewards to it. And she rather thought that it brought pretty… tangible bonuses. To Maureen included. She wasn't one to keep a good thing to herself without sharing, after all.
Her musings were brought to light with Maureen's help, drawn out by the threat of a week without kisses (which she laughed at, considering Maureen had her lips on the side of her neck as she'd said that). She willingly complied simply to humor her girlfriend, but was met with eyebrows knit together above hazel eyes at the end of her tale. Clearly something had been left out.
As the question was just beginning to form in Maureen's throat, she realized she already knew it. Flipping them over and stealing the breath from Maureen's lips, she answered before the query was even released.
Tango means to touch.