Shaw needed to be ready for the Ball in less than thirty hours, but she was no where near even beginner's level. Her idea of dancing involved something called twerking. Harold was mortified and near hysterics when she attempted to demonstrate.
The New Year's Mayoral Ball required pose, class, and ballroom dancing. Finch was fairly certain Ms. Shaw had neglected to read the books he gave her on the sport. Her form was laughable, her rhythm was constantly looking for a baseline, and her ability to be led across a dance floor was so poor her partner would either surrender or be permanently lame.
Harold had tried for hours as he was the correct height and had decades of experience. Between his limp and Shaw's inability to simply feel, Finch had to admit defeat. Mr. Reese had been watching them with a pleased and amused expression, but was now engaged in comical combat that was supposed to be a waltz. The twelve inch height difference wasn't the only problem; Shaw insisted on driving.
They made a stunningly gorgeous pair. Long, elegant John with a perfect mastery of his lithe and tanned body facing petite and feisty Shaw giving as good as she got. The struggle was with the personalities as well as physicality.
Finally, Harold ordered them to take a break and beef up their cover identities. He demanded they remember they were Christine Pembre and John Vulkner not Shaw and Reese.
Once both combative dancers were out of the reading room they had appropriated, Harold change the CD. The Blue Danube by Johann Strauss II began its extended introduction in the key of A and rose to a beautiful hop and waltz.
He understood Ms. Shaw's lack of ease as the passive partner. When you learn to dance as one it can be difficult to switch to the other. It had taken Harold months of practice to learn to lead Grace on a dance floor. Harold's muscle memory recalled the steps going backwards, being held by strong arms, and taken across a floor holding broad shoulders, looking up into laughing blue eyes.
Nathan spent an entire summer teaching Harold to waltz. Over and over they would twirl and whirl in the boat house on the Ingram's ranch. All summer it had been just Harold and Nathan; eating, sleeping, and playing in a huge house several acres away from the main family residence. It was their own little retreat. A world of their own before real life and adulthood would descend like a Valkyrie to rend flesh and break hearts.
Before Ingram Senior decided that his first born son needed to breed and stop pussyfooting around with all that book knowledge at MIT. That Nathan should take over the family business and settle down with Olivia. A hand picked debutante that Nathan barely knew and hardly even liked.
Harold shook away the cobwebs of the past and let the music wash over him. This had been their favorite. A bit trite, but a classic made for tech geeks who wanted to enter the business world. The imagery of 2001: A Space Odyssey always close to their minds. Harold recalled feeling like Dave Bowmen on the ship when dancing with Nathan: weightless, ready for adventure, and carefree.
Soon, Harold was swaying to the familiar beats. Violins and horns taking him back to a time when pain and anguish were a thing of the past. The stationary box step flowed effortlessly. His arms came up to hold an imaginary and tall partner. The rotating box step had him breathless and deep into the music.
He got carried away and started the ladies underarm turn without thought. The move sparked fire up his hip and nearly made him fall had his progressive step not moved him closer to a chair. He sat heavily, defeat and shame coursing through him. He punched his leg in frustration and hissed, "Dammit all to hell."
"Finch?" Reese hurried over and knelt to inspect the hip.
Finch batted John away with an irritated, "It's nothing. I just forgot I can't waltz anymore."
Reese stood, "Age comes for everyone Finch. Even I can't.."
"Spare me, Mr. Reese." Harold interrupted sharply. "This is hardly something you can identify with even if you are empathetic to the point of communing with a wall. No, just let me be. I will be fine." Finch stood as well, massaging his hip and waved Reese off . "Get Ms. Shaw if you would, please. We need to be letter perfect by tomorrow."
John stared for a few heartbeats then sighed. It was uncharacteristic of Harold to be so rude. However, Shaw did need to train more on their dancing. Reese turned and looked for her absentmindedly. He was more concerned with Finch's mood than Shaw's comportment. He found her inhaling Hot Pockets and sneaking some to Bear. They once again attempted to break each other's toes.
After a while, they got a nice rhythm going. Pleased, Reese smiled over at Finch to make sure Harold saw them. John's face fell when he caught the fleeting look of sadness and longing on Harold's face. Before Finch could close off his features, Reese saw the jealousy lurking there as well.
"OW!" Shaw yelled. "Reese, dammit watch your Frankenstein feet!"
"Sorry," John shrugged.
Harold sighed."Alright. That's enough. What you can't do on the dance floor you can make up in looks I suppose. "
Shaw escaped like she had been pardoned by the Governor leaving Reese to help with the clean up. Finch seemed tired and barely spoke beyond ordering John about. Once things were set, Harold went to his desk.
Reese shook his head, "Now come on Finch, we need to rest. Tomorrow is a big day and you've been on your feet more than usual."
Finch prickled."Mr. Reese, I was under the impression that I was the employer."
"Yeah, you are when we are on the job. After punching the clock you are my boyfriend remember? And that gives me the right to insist..." Reese leaned over Finch's shoulder to key in the log off codes. The monitors all went dark and he shoved the keyboard out of the way as he sat to look Finch in the eyes. "To insist that you come over and get a good eight hours plus. No arguing I am pulling boyfriend-rank."
Harold looked at John as if the man had lost his mind. "Boyfriend? Mr. Reese.."
"Ah-ah, now we have a rule. No Mister."
Finch grimaced and looked around for Shaw. "John." He hissed. "We are two middle aged vigilantes, boyfriend seems a bit juvenile."
"Nevertheless, I am your boyfriend and I have veto rights." Reese strolled over to the coat rack and started shaking out Finch's overcoat. He held the shoulders like a matador's cape, waving it at an uncooperative bull.
Harold huffed and stomped over to allow John to assist the donning of the coat. Reese whistled for Bear and attached the leash. John waited for Finch to walk through the gate with Bear's lead before Reese himself shut off the generator and locked up for the night.
The ride home was silent but John never forgot the look of Harold's face as Shaw and Reese danced, or the incident with Finch dancing alone to that waltz from 2001.
After a silent dinner and some reading for both men, they went to bed. Just as John was about to drift off he remembered Harold's unusual frustration with his injuries. It all clicked: Finch was upset that he could no longer dance while Shaw and Reese could.
Harold had to give up so much in his life to then be reminded that he would never glide across a dance floor must have hurt. Add to that, watching your lover dance with a beautiful woman and you had a mixture for a cranky, depressed Harold. This last thought before sleep claimed him made Reese vow that he would remind Finch that injuries or no, Harold's body was far from useless.
Proof read by Blue_Finch.
No Beta Reader so ConCrit and spell check are love!
Blaue Donau is German for Blue Danube.