Stuff was already tapping her feet with excitement, and the music hadn't even started yet. Beside her, Thang was swaying, which may have been nerves since this was their first date.

Several underground clubs had come out of the woodwork to collaborate in a massive public party. The king had either volunteered, or been volunteered by his mother, to fund the event, but had not been involved in organizing it.

Goblins had still dated during the love ban, either publically while denying that the time spent together was romantic, or in secret locations that the Guard pretended not to know about. But now that the Bog King had repealed the law forbidding public romantic affection, couples and polyamorous groups wanted to celebrate being allowed to express their love in public once more – or for the first time, depending on when the relationship had first begun.

Stuff and Thang had known each other for years, but, due to their proximity to the king as his aides, hadn't even openly flirted until recently. Being on a date with Thang had Stuff giddy and uncharacteristically jumpy. This was going to be so much fun and she really wanted it to go well.

There were more than just goblins in the crowd. The Bog King had given the elves an open invitation to attend any public festivities in the Dark Forest, feeling like he owed them a party after crashing their Spring Festival, and a number of other Fairy Kingdom citizens had also invited themselves.

Considering … cultural differences in musical taste, it was unclear how long any of them would stay once the music started. On the other hand, a lot of the tunes were sure to be sappy and romantic, even if none of them matched 'Sugar Pie Honey Bunch'.

"Are you –? I'm having fun," said Thang. "Are you having fun?"

"Yeah. This is nice."

The band onstage finally sorted out their instruments and started playing. It was a simple, jazzy tune, good for warming up. Stuff grinned and pulled Thang out onto the dance floor.

Thang bowed theatrically to her, making her laugh. They held up their hands and pressed palms, Stuff's right to Thang's left and his right to her left. They stepped close together, so close their chests brushed, then stepped back, their arms fully extended to keep their palms touching.

Stuff twirled and Thang clapped. Their palms met again and they repeated the step-in-step-back move. This time Thang twirled and Stuff clapped. The two of them passed the spin back and forth for the duration on the short song. The trick was to spin in the opposite direction each time, except for kids, for whom getting dizzy was half the fun.

"This is the most complicated dance I can do," Thang warned her. "You'll have to lead me in anything else."

"I can do that." Stuff curled her fingers through his. "Don't worry. I won't let you get lost."

The next song was slower. Stuff showed Thang the formal position – his hand on her shoulder and hers on his waist, because she was leading, and because he was shorter than her, so her hand on his shoulder could feel like she was shoving him down but his hand on her shoulder felt more balanced – and waltzed him through it.

When there wasn't a hard percussion line, Thang easily lost his sense of rhythm, but without claws, his webbed feet couldn't do much damage.

Stuff started softly counting aloud. "One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three …" It seemed to help.

The next song was another fast one. It wasn't necessarily romantic, but it was very old and very popular.

"My sisters and I used to dance to this one!" said Stuff excitedly.

Stuff pulled Thang into a tight spin, then threw her arms up and kicked one leg out. She stomped her kicking foot down. She clapped her hands, still overhead, then reached out to Thang, who was rocking again, more-or-less to the beat, but may or may not have intended that as a dance move.

He smiled at her and spun before taking her hands.

"We can take a break if you want," Stuff told him as they hopped together.

"No, this is great! You really are a great dancer."

That sweet, earnest expression made Stuff want to kiss him, so she did. Thang squeaked and stumbled. Stuff caught him.

"You okay?"

"And a great kisser," he answered dazedly.

The musicians switched to a slow song again. It was jarring, how they completely changed tempos with each piece, but Stuff could see the logic behind it. This way no one had to wait ages for the music to switch back to their preferred speed.

Thang and Stuff chatted while they dance.

Each knew basics from their years of working together, like where the other grew up – Stuff in a big city with her sisters, Thang as an only child in a small town – or favourite food – Thang loved spicy dishes, the hotter the better, and Stuff could never eat enough savoury meat pies.

But they'd missed other details, like favourite colours – Thang's was blue, the shade of the sky just after sunset when it wasn't fully dark yet, and Stuff's was the searing gold-orange of certain autumn leaves – or childhood pets – Stuff had kept a succession of snails, and Thang had always wanted a spider but his parents had forbidden it, so he'd had to be content with naming local wild ones and pretending.

On the next fast song, Thang did request a break, but also insisted that Stuff keep dancing.

She cut loose, waving and leaping and spinning and kicking. When that song ended, Thang applauded her so enthusiastically that several other people joined in out of social reflex.

"I think I need a break after that," Stuff panted.

"I found these at one of the buffet tables." Thang presented a tray of tart-sized meat pies.

"You," Stuff informed him, "are the greatest."