4/4 Measure
She's never shown much promise when it comes to grace and poise. Rhythm always escapes her; she could never keep up with everyone else. But as these big hands hold tight and lead her round and round and she digs her toes into the tops of his feet, she feels like she can keep the beat all by herself if she really had to.
Bra smiles wide to herself as she listens closely. He's counting in that funny language he uses when it's quiet or when he's alone. She only knows up to the number five, and luckily for her, he seems to be stuck in four-four measure in this make-believe waltz.
They've been side-back-front stepping for half an hour, but Bra doubts it will ever get old. This is her favorite, by far.
But still, she can't resist a good ribbing. Especially when he falters so easily! "Are we gonna actually do something, or are we just gonna keep going in circles?"
He sneers (it's not mean, he's never mean) and tilts his chin away from her. His fingers flex around her tiny hand. "You have to learn the timing first. Be patient, girl."
"You keep counting to four and back!" When she wiggles her hands, like she's teasing she might let go of him, he grips her hand and waist tighter. Bra giggles. "C'mon, daddy. Dip me or something!"
"How can you expect to be any good if you—"
"I don't want to be good," she tells him with a nod and defiant lift of her head. "I just want to have fun."
Daddy arches an eyebrow at her. "So, you're wasting my time."
She ducks away from his glare and rests her head against his chest, enjoying the steadiness of his one-two-three-four-one-two-three-four box step.
When Bra closes her eyes, lets herself drift, she feels like a buoy on the sea. And he's her anchor, isn't he? "Oh, I don't think I am."
Daddy hums this little noise that sounds like agreement, but he doesn't say anything. He just keeps on counting.
Author's Note: Just in time for Father's Day! Just a short drabble on Bra and Vegeta. Nothing major. I just love their relationship; it's so cute!