Simmons sighed. "Grif, what the hell are we doing here? This is my only day off for months, and I don't want to spend it in some disease-ridden bar. Do you know how unsanitary these places are?"

"C'mon, Simmons. This is our chance to get with the ladies!" Grif said. "You are interested in girls, aren't you?" He smirked, yelling over the loud music.

"U-Uh, of course! Why wouldn't I be? I'm totally into chicks. I'm down with that." Simmons said rapidly, sweating slightly.

"Oh please, Simmons. Just last week you told me that you don't like it when girls pay direct attention to you." Grif said.

"That's not true," Simmons said.

"You cried when that girl touched your arm at a dance when you were sixteen." Grif scoffed.

"That's a lie!" Simmons exclaimed.

"Donut showed us the home video, Panic McGee." Grif smirked again.

"God dammit, Donut. I told him not to tell anyone." Simmons sighed.

"I'm gonna be right back, I'm just going to use the bathroom." Grif said, hopping off of the bar stool.

"Wait, you're going to leave me here alone?!" Simmons exclaimed. "Don't go!" He begged.

"And you wonder why Carolina asked if we were dating…" Grif sneered. "Don't worry buddy, I'll be back before you know it." Grif said, patting him on the back.

"Fine. You're paying for my drink." Simmons said, scowling.

"You got it," Grif said, waving his hand as he walked away.

Simmons sighed, turning to the bartender. "I'll have a scotch on the rocks with a twist."

Ten minutes later, Grif still hadn't come back. Simmons was now standing at the edge of the dance floor, tapping his foot to the beat. He ran his hand through his thick, brownish-reddish hair. He sighed, groaning. "Ugh, where the fuck did Grif go?"

Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Hey," A feminine voice called out. Simmons turned around.

"Huh?" He said, confused. In front of him was a girl, five-foot four, with long auburn hair, tied up in a ponytail. Her body was nothing to brag about, but she was just curvy enough with a big enough bust to be light years out of Simmons's league. She had piercing green eyes, matching her ruby red dress.

"Cool robot parts you've got there." The girl said with a sly smile. Simmons stood there bug-eyed, mouth agape.

"Uh…" He stammered.

"My name's Casey. What's yours?" The mysterious girl asked. By this point the song playing had changed to a softer, more mellow one, eliminating the need to yell, but the new song was just as energetic.

"Dick. Er- I mean Richard. I mean-" Simmons stammered.

"Hah. Dick. That's interesting." Casey chuckled. "What's your last name, Dick-slash-Richard?"

"Uh…" Simmons said, completely blanking out. After about thirty seconds, he remembered. "Simmons. It's- er- Simmons."

"Nice to meet you, Simmons. My last name is Vonblazingdale. Or 'Vonnie' for short." Vonnie said. "Casey Ashley Vonblazingdale."

"N-nice to meet you," Simmons replied, blushing. He wasn't used to girls talking to him. Or girls looking at him. Or girls paying attention to him in general. He looked around, scanning the room for Grif. He couldn't see him in the crowd of moving bodies.

"Care to dance?" Vonnie asked, reaching out her hand.

"Er- I would, but…" Simmons trailed off, blushing in embarrassment.

"But what?" Vonnie asked.

"I don't know how to dance." Simmons admitted.

"Don't worry, you will after a few more drinks." Vonnie chuckled. "Hey bartender! Hit me up with two shots of vodka for my buddy here!"

"Two shots?" Simmons said, eyebrow raised.

"Don't sweat it, they're both for you." Vonnie chuckled again. "It's on me."

The bartender slammed down two shots of clear liquid onto the table next to them. Simmons looked at the girl, then the shots, then the girl, and then the shots again.

"Fuck it," He said, downing the glasses in one gulp each. After that, the entire night was a blur.

-oOoOo-

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! This is my first RvB fic. Let's hope it's a good one, eh? This story was inspired by the song "Shut Up and Dance" by Walk the Moon.