Hello! Ok, first off, this is my birthday present to the lovely and wonderful shana-rosee, who is a most awesome S/T cheerleader and probably the sweetest person on the planet :o) Happy birthday my dear! This is a 3-part fic that I hope to update and complete during the week, but right now, on your birthday, here is part one!

Just a little more info before we get going. So two weeks ago I heard this song on the radio by the group, Walk the Moon. The song (like this story) was titled "Shut Up and Dance (with me)". I immediately fell in love with this song and it gave me some really strong Sybil/Tom vibes. I then went to Youtube and found the music video, and not only laughed at the goofiness of it all, but again thought that the idea in the song/video might make for a great little modern AU. SO THAT IS HOW THIS STORY CAME INTO BEING! That, and I thought it would make for a great contribution to April's "rock the AU" theme of "romantic comedy".

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and once again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHANA-ROSEE!

Shut Up and Dance
by The Yankee Countess

Part I

"Come on, on your feet," Thomas ordered before pouring himself a shot of whiskey; Tom's whiskey.

Tom groaned and looked up at his friend who always made a face when he drank the stuff. "I've changed my mind," he began, but Thomas was already shaking his head, refusing to listen to whatever excuse he attempted to give.

"No going back," Thomas coughed after swallowing the shot, then poured one for Tom and handed him the glass. "Come on, drink up, then we go."

He took the glass but shook his head. "I'm not going," he muttered.

"Yes you are," Thomas insisted.

"No I'm not!" He was trying to sound serious, but it was coming out as petulant. "I'm not going…clubbing."

"Well you're not staying here to mope another night away," Thomas countered.

Tom glared up at his friend. "I do not 'mope'," he muttered.

"Fine, 'pout' then."

"I don't 'pout' either!"

"Well whatever you want to call it, you're not staying here doing it!" Thomas argued. "Tom, mate—it's been three weeks."

Tom groaned and rolled his eyes, before taking that shot as Thomas began his speech all over again.

"Edna was a calculating, gold-digging bitc—"

"Don't call her that," Tom interrupted, giving Thomas a look of warning.

Thomas rolled his eyes. "She doesn't deserve your defense any more than she deserves you moping over your break-up. I highly doubt she's feeling half the sadness and regret you're feeling."

At that, Thomas was probably right. Edna made it quite clear when Tom had caught her and his now former flatmate in bed together that she had "moved on", thus shedding light to something he had been denying for some time: their relationship was a complete joke. And if truth be told, that was the reason to his "moping", as Thomas called it; he was more upset that he had been so blind and foolish in attempting to keep a bad relationship going, rather than feeling heartbroken over the discovery of his girlfriend cheating on him.

Thomas was right; he needed to stop throwing this pity party for one. Still, was "clubbing" really the answer?

"You just need to get out and meet someone new," Thomas explained, obviously believing he had won this whole argument (and in a manner of speaking, he had).

Tom frowned at the suggestion. "I don't think I'm ready to start another relationship."

"Who said anything about that? Just find some nice girl to take home and shag."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Have you forgotten that 'home' right now is your couch?"

"For you, mate, I'd lend you my bedroom," Thomas grinned.

"Wow. You're a true romantic."

"Just call me Cupid," Thomas winked, which did bring a small smile to Tom's lips. He gave a great sigh, and then pushed himself up from the very couch that was serving as his bed for the time being.

"Fine, I'll go," he groaned, which naturally had Thomas smirking triumphantly. "But just to be clear," he added. "I'm going as I am—" which caused Thomas to roll his eyes and frown as he assessed Tom's present wardrobe. "—and I'll spend my time at the bar."

"Oh come on," Thomas groaned in exasperation. "You can't go to a club and spend the entire time drinking!"

Like hell I can't, Tom thought to himself. "I agreed to leave the flat and go to the club with you; I didn't promise I would be social."

"Fine," Thomas sighed, clearly seeing that this wasn't a battle worth fighting, (and it wasn't). "But promise me this," he attempted. "If some girl does take pity on your undeserving arse—" Tom couldn't help but laugh at that. "—you won't let your stubborn Irish pride get in the way and keep yourself from exploring the possibility of…something happening, yeah?"

Tom looked at Thomas for a long moment and then with a shrug of his shoulders, nodded his head. "Yeah, fine," he murmured. "But it's not going to happen."

"Not with that attitude!" Thomas scoffed, which again had Tom chuckling.

It wasn't so bad, Tom had to admit. The club was active, but it wasn't overly crowded, which he was grateful for; he didn't fancy being shoved every which way. Yet by that same token, it wasn't sparse. There were plenty of people laughing and dancing, which meant that no one would really miss or notice him, so he could sneak away to the bar and drink in peace.

Their other friends, William and Jimmy, were also there; apparently Thomas was so confident that he'd convince Tom to leave the flat that he had made arrangements for their friends to meet them there. He was just grateful Thomas hadn't gone the extra measure to try and push any of their female acquaintances at him.

"What do you think of Gwen? She's a looker…if you like that sort of thing." That "sort of thing", meaning, "women".

Tom remembered how Thomas had suggested Gwen as a possible "rebound" (somewhat in jest…somewhat) shortly after he had moved in with him. Thomas had also suggested himself, in case Tom wanted to swear off women in general. He politely turned his friend down on both counts.

Speaking of Gwen, she was there, though Tom knew that despite Thomas' suggestion, it wasn't him she was interested in but William, who was smiling and talking to and trying to convince to join her on the dance floor. William wasn't too different from Tom, in terms of having broken up with someone not so long ago. The difference being that William had truly been in love with Daisy, whereas Tom wasn't sure he could say that about Edna, at least not by the time things had ended between them.

Tom was at the bar, enjoying a bottle of Carlsberg and watching his friends laugh and talk and even dance. Thomas was a natural, and really took command of the floor. Jimmy was also very popular, especially with women (much to Thomas' frustration), and William, though shy, was being drawn out of his shell thanks to Gwen and her contagious laughter.

He was happy for his friends, truly. And while he would be loath to admit this, he was actually glad he had let Thomas convince him to come.

That being said, he still had no intention of leaving the bar. No, he was perfectly fine and content with sitting there and "people watching"—

A flash of gold caught his eye.

Actually, it was one of the club's many disco balls from overhead, catching the gleam of some girl's earring, the sparkle of which momentarily blinding him. Tom lifted his hand to shield his eyes, while at the same time trying to see where the light had come from…

She was bouncing her head in time with the music, which naturally caused light to bounce from her dancing earrings. She had dark hair, which had been pulled back and was done up in a messy style (or perhaps it simply looked that way because it was becoming lose due to her movements?). If she cared, she didn't show it, she simply laughed and grinned and continued moving as the music thumped and flowed all around her.

She spun in place several times, and Tom watched her as she moved. She didn't seem to be dancing with one particular person…because she would spin and laugh and dance with one partner, before spinning and grinning and dancing with another. No, she had no single partner, the club was her partner, and as people sometimes did with Thomas or Jimmy when they danced, bodies parted to give her more room to spin and swing and bounce and move every which way her heart desired.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. There was just something…enchanting about her.

Tom watched as she continued to move around on the dance floor, completely carefree, dancing to whatever steps and rhythm she wanted to dance to, a living embodiment to the phrase "marching to the beat of a different drummer" (only in this case, it was "dancing"). But no one seemed to mind that she was doing what she was doing, in fact every person she encountered on that dance floor just seemed to smile and laugh and even cheer for her—she had that kind of effect on people.

…Including him.

Tom wasn't aware that he had been smiling as he watched her (or that he had even been leaning away from the bar), until she turned her beautiful face towards him and their eyes locked.

He nearly fell off the barstool he had been sitting on.

Despite the smoke and lights of the club, Tom could see her eyes clearly—deep and blue and…and beautiful.

Her lips curled into a sweet smile, and she lifted a hand to wave at him.

Tom found himself stupidly looking around, thinking she had to be waving at someone else, someone she knew, some lucky bastard she fancied or was dating, because there was no reason whatsoever that she would be waving at…him.

But she was. And his eyes started to widen as she began to move towards the bar…and to be specific, towards him!

"Hi!" she greeted, practically shouting over the loud bass that flooded the space around them. "I'm Sybil!"

Sybil. Not the sort of name a person heard too often. Lovely and unique…like her.

Tom swallowed the lump that was lodged in his throat and somehow managed to say his name back. "Tom…"

"What!?"

"Tom!" he repeated, a little louder so she could hear. "Tom Branson!"

She grinned then—grinned! And it was dazzling to see.

She reached for his Carlsberg and Tom thought she was going to take a drink. Offer to buy her one, you idiot! But he was wrong, because she simply put the bottle back on the bar, before taking his now free hands in hers and with a gentle but firm tug, pulling him up off the barstool and away from the bar.

He stared at her with wide eyes as she began to lead him away, her intentions becoming more and more obvious the closer they drew to the dance floor. "Um…?" he started to look back over his shoulder, but was stopped short by the feel of her fingers cupping his chin.

"Don't look back," she told him, her voice softer but somehow so much clearer, despite the heavy base that continued to thump.

"But—?"

"Just keep your eyes on me," she continued, her smile, like her confidence, simply illuminating.

They were in the middle of the dance floor by that point, and despite his own personal nervousness (he wasn't a great dancer) and the odd sense of surrealism (was this really happening? Did this beautiful girl just pluck him of all people, out of an entire room of willing partners?), he couldn't help but smile back at her and even cheekily reply, "You're holding back."

She threw her head back and laughed, a wonderful, husky (and sexy) sound, before tugging his hands which were still entwined with hers, pulling him towards her so close that their faces were only a few inches apart, before huskily murmuring, "shut up and dance with me."

Only a fool would refuse, and while Tom had done many foolish things in his life, so help him this was not going to be one of them!

"You and Sybil were looking mighty 'cozy' there," Thomas teased as both he and Tom made their journey back to Thomas' flat.

Tom was in a strange place; a part of him was feeling elated, like he was on cloud nine, like he was Fred Astaire and could defy gravity. The other part of him was downhearted, because his very own Ginger Rogers had disappeared after their time together on the dance floor.

Why had she gone? They were having such a grand time, or so he had thought. She laughed and grinned and seemed to genuinely enjoy his company and so long as the music and base played, the two of them continued to dance, even to the point where Tom felt so bold to move his arms around her, which she didn't protest to, in fact it seemed to encourage her to weave her arms around him…

They weren't "bumping and grinding" the way many couples did on the dance floor, this wasn't like that. But they had been close, their bodies touching, their hands stroking…hers on his forearms and biceps, squeezing the muscles there, while his own floated up and down the silky smoothness of her arms, before settling on her waist, and then even moving down to caress her hip.

But like the clock chiming midnight, signaling for Cinderella to leave the ball, the music eventually changed to a slower rhythm, and much to Tom's disappointment, Sybil started to move away, her hands catching his and giving them what he wanted to believe was an affectionate squeeze, before murmuring, "thanks for the dance, Tom Branson."

Then she leaned up, kissed his cheek, and with a flip of beautiful tousled brown hair, she danced away into the shadows, leaving the floor entirely.

…Had she been real? Had he imagined her? He would have thought that possible, if Thomas hadn't come up to him shortly after and slapped him hard on the back, congratulating him for "rejoining the human race".

"Do you know her?" Tom asked, turning to look at his friend as they continued on their journey back. After Sybil had left, Tom didn't see much point in staying, and Thomas didn't fight him on it, he just seemed to be happy that Tom had made that much of an effort for the evening.

Thomas shook his head. "No, but Gwen does," he explained. "They're childhood friends; grew up together in Yorkshire, though I thought Gwen had said something about how her family used to work for Sybil's family or…something. I don't know, but it sounded like Sybil was posh…or her family was posh, something like that."

"Is she staying with Gwen?" Tom asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly. However, if Thomas said "yes", he had a right mind to ask Thomas where Gwen lived so he could knock on her door and ask—

"No, she's got family here in London; staying with them. And she's leaving tomorrow," he added, and Tom felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Thomas seemed to notice Tom's disheartened expression and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "Sorry, mate."

Tom tried to cover up his disappointment and forced a smile. If anything, he should be thanking Thomas for convincing him to go to the club, otherwise he would never have met her, even if it had only been for one night.

"Hey!" Thomas nudged Tom with his shoulder. "I'm sure she'll be back at some point; Gwen can always let us know if and when she's in town, yeah?"

Tom forced his smile a little more and nodded his head in agreement. But who knows when that will be?

"Ah, don't take it so hard," Thomas sighed. "If anything, tonight just proved that you're ready to move forward, right?"

"Right," Tom answered softly, his mind going back to when he had first noticed Sybil, to watching her dance, to being enchanted by her, to being drawn to his feet and persuaded to dance with her…

"Don't look back; just keep your eyes on me…"

He was sad, disappointed that she was gone, and the cynical side of him, the part that had been berating himself after his break-up with Edna, was already screaming that it didn't matter if and when he saw her again, because it was impossible to believe someone like her could be single, that she didn't have a string of admirers, perhaps even a boyfriend already, back in Yorkshire, waiting for her to return, and that he was just some random guy she took a momentary fancy to and decided to entertain herself with by asking him to dance with her…

Yet the other part of him, the part ruled more so by his heart, told that cynical voice to shut up. And as his mind danced through the memories of their all too brief encounter, he couldn't help but smile and quietly think to himself...

This woman is my destiny.

To be continued...

Hope you enjoyed! Parts 2 and 3 will be posted this week. Also, I highly recommend at the very least listening to the song (though you should look for the video too!) You can find links to both on my blog on tumblr. Thanks for reading!