A/N: American flags all over the country flutter at half-staff in the wind today as we look back upon that Tuesday morning. The day the Manhattan skyline changed forever. The day the famed twin pillars of steel and glass suddenly vanished into a cloud of smoke and rubble that stunned every last viewer into silence. From California to Maine, people united, rose up to defend this great country.

The author would like to thank our Armed Forces, for all that you have done for America, and for all that you have sacrificed to keep this country running the way it is.

September Eleventh.

We will never forget.

And, now, onto a lighter note- the work itself!

The Dance

A battered-looking Ford pickup bounced to a halt in the gravel lot in front of Annie Callahan's prized ranch Ballyvolan, its single working headlight spotlighting a section of a dilapidated wooden fence, worn with age, its white paint chipping away in large flakes.

And then Annie herself was standing beside the truck, leaning casually on the rusty driver's side door, nodding to the driver.

"Evening, Mr. Nolan. Would you like a cuppa?"

Ronan gestured to the bed of his pickup. "No thanks, Annie…I came out here to work with the Spear Luin…"

Annie shrugged. "Who am I to stop you, then?" she inquired, and after nodding good-night, paced back towards the house, evidently to finish brewing her tea.

Ronan sighed and, swinging the door open with a screech, gingerly slammed it and reached into the wholly oxidized bed of the truck. With a heave, he pulled out the Spear, its tip shrouded by a perpetually wet cloth, as to prevent the Spear's fire from burning a hole in the bed of the truck. He trudged out across the gravel lot, his footsteps crunching as he approached the fence bordering on the fields.

And he froze, suddenly recalling a night some time ago, when he and someone special to him at the time had waltzed one night, dancing to the nocturnal churring of the crickets, and the occasional chirp from an owl.

Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared, beneath the stars above.
For a moment, all the world was right
How could I have known

that you'd ever say goodbye?

Ronan's dark eyes fixated on a small section of fence he remembered very well, thinking back to the memories of that long-ago night, and the kiss he had shared with another.

And now, she was gone, back in America, probably snuggling up to Kit or some other boy, enjoying their presence as he had enjoyed hers.

Ronan heaved a long, heavy sigh, trying to rid his mind of the images that suddenly filled it.

He was glad, almost, that he had no idea what she was doing at the moment… of what had become of their brief relationship. He longed for those days again, the days when she was in his arms, snuggling up to him. He was with her… and that was all that mattered as they danced together, illuminated only by the light of the stars.

And now, I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end
The way it all would go.
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd have had to miss the dance.

He sighed and walked over to the fence, the Spear forgotten for the time as he jumped up onto it, remembering the last time he had perched on the wooden railing, when he had held her in his arms for the final time.

And then… she was gone, an autumn leaf caught up by a gust of wind and blown back to America.



Holding you, I held everything,
For a moment wasn't I the king?
But If I'd only known how the king would fall,
Hey who's to say, you know I might have changed It all,

And still, he didn't know what to think about her absence. For one, he was glad she was gone, happy for Kit, or whomever held her in their arms that night. But, for another, he waited for her return, waited so that the things that had gone unsaid between them could be said, so that the things still to be done could be done.

He had taken her for granted, and now, she was gone.



And now, I'm glad I didn't know,
The way It all would end,
The way It all would go,
Our lives are better left to chance,
I could have missed the pain,
But I'd have had to miss

The dance.

It was his life, his decisions. And he had screwed it up. Moving too fast, perhaps, had made her uncomfortable. But whatever the reason, once she had boarded the plane, that was the last he'd seen of her in three years. Nothing since then. Not even a mind-to-mind conversation.

Maybe he shouldn't have even considered courting her in the first place.

All this pain, this anxiety, would all be gone.

But where would the fond memories be?

Where would the dance be?



It's my life, It's better left to chance,
I could have missed the pain,
But I'd have had to miss
The dance

With a sign, Ronan slung Luin over his shoulder and hopped the fence, walking out towards the creek.

Halfway there, he turned, looking back at the fence.

So many memories of her, two nights like this, swept over him, bringing a faint smile to his face.

And her name escaped his lips.

"Nita…"

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