Disclaimer: Musically not mine.
A/N: Originally part of the Poetry of the Air collection, but I went over the time limit. The original brief of that ficlet collection was this: Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like, turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle, then write a ficlet related to or inspired by each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over.
I Wanna Dance With Somebody
© Scribbler, December 2008.
I need a man who'll take a chance
On a love that burns too hot to last.
-- From I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston
Aerith came out of the dressing room in a swish of red satin and clicky heels. She'd let her hair down, and as she gave a twirl it flowed like liquid silk, framing her face. She then ruined the effect by getting a wad of it in her mouth and spitting it out, and Cloud was glad for the distraction so she wouldn't notice his hitched breathing.
Not that she could, he reminded himself. She was just an ordinary human who didn't have the enhanced senses of a SOLDIER. She wouldn't be able to pick up on the sudden increase in his heartbeat, or the rusty catch in his throat when he drew breath.
He briefly closed his eyes, forcing his body back into a more composed state – spoiled once more when he opened his eyes again to find her three inches from his nose, peering up at him with the dangerously mischievous glint in her eyes that'd got him into this stupid get-up in the first place.
"It's not that bad, Miss Cloud. You look very fetching."
He grunted. "This is humiliating."
"That's because you're still thinking like a man. Your voice is too deep and your posture's all wrong. You have to get into character."
She reached out, and he forced himself not to flinch away as she touched him. He was working on not stabbing, punching or kicking anything that invaded his personal space, but the urge was still there, although less so with Aerith. It was pushing to its limit, however, when she reached around behind him.
She did something subtle with the small of his back, the bend of his knees and the angles of his elbows, and suddenly he was standing like a hooker on a Sector Five street corner.
Aerith stood back with a satisfied look. "There. Much more feminine."
Cloud looked down at himself. He felt ludicrous and looked eve worse. "You don't stand like this."
"That's because I'm naturally feminine. You look like you're ready for some big strong man to sweep you off your feet now."
He growled low in his throat, until she playfully shoved the palm of her hand against his shoulder.
On a whim (or at least that's what he though it must be), she grabbed his hands, rearranged them, and hooked her right arm around his waist. His balance was compromised by whatever she's done to his legs, so that when she spun around he was obliged to follow her or fall over.
"There!" she grinned. "See? You didn't try to lead me. You're thinking more like a girl already."
Cloud stood upright and stepped hurriedly away from her, muttering about feeling ridiculous and wondering why the skin beneath his clothes burned where her hands had been.
Fin.