A/N:

The title and song reference in this is James McMurtry's, 'Lights of Cheyenne'

As always, not canon compliant

Wednesday was the hard deadline but it's past 3am on Thursday and even though it will never been good enough, it will have to do.

I swore I wasn't going to write about this homophone but we were sitting around the fire pit, listening to James McMurtry and drinking beer, because that's what you do when you live in Texas, burn shit, drink Lone Star, and listen to country music.

And I just couldn't help myself.


"And she's got a cowboy problem
And this last one's a sight
All dressed up like gun smoke
for Saturday night."
-Lights of Cheyenne, James McMurtry-

"What are we listening to?"

Danse watched as Cooper screwed up her face and gestured to the small speaker next to his chair before reaching for her beer.

The night was dark and the air still held the chill of winter. The only light illuminating Cooper's frown radiated from the burn barrell nestled between their rusted patio chairs.

The recent bombings had taken out the major power plants which led to rolling blackouts. So tonight the lights of Boston twinkled in the distance but up here in the northern suburbs, they were blanketed in darkness until power was restored to their section of the grid.

"Bluegrass," Danse continued observing Cooper as he spoke. She leaned back in her chair and tossed her head back as she took a swig of the amber liquid. "It's-"

"I know what Bluegrass is," she interrupted, her head lolled toward him and their eyes met. Even in the firelight, Danse could see patches of green shimmering in the earthy brown like moss on the forest floor. "It just sounds like something my grandparents would listen to."

Danse looked away and exhaled heavily as his brows knitted together. He refused to stoop to her level of eye rolling .

How exactly had she convinced him to climb up on the roof of the fueling station? Something about relaxing and taking a load off, but so far he had sat in the derelict metal chair soaking in the cold air while all Cooper had managed to do was criticize his choice of drink and taste in music.

"I don't know why I allow you to drag me along on your little escapades." It was rhetorical, muttering more to himself, but he was sure Cooper had a response nonetheless.

"Because I'm interesting," she angled toward him and out of the corner of his eye, he could see her crooked smile and the brazen look on her face, "And you like me."

"That's debatable." Danse retorted, perhaps a little too quickly. He folded his arms across his chest and tried to narrow his sights on the Boston skyline instead of the flippant woman sitting next to him.

"Oh the Captain's got jokes now," Cooper snickered and playfully nudged his shoulder.

Danse wouldn't have tolerated such behavior from anyone else. But then again, he wouldn't be here with anyone else.

Cooper was the epitome of disobedience and unprofessional conduct. Headstrong and stubborn, demanding justice and unrelenting until righteousness was served to the wicked and the damned. She was like a force of nature and for some reason, Danse found himself being pulled along, following in her wake of condemnation.

"Come on grandpa, you're not that old," Cooper teased, "Can we please listen to something else?"

"Fine," he grumbled and rummaged for the phone in his pocket.

Danse shuffled through his music library until he found something he thought Cooper might find suitable. There was a moment of silence before the strum of the guitar picked up.

The sound seemed uncanny in the stillness around them. Curfews had been instated when the war breached American soil and at this time there were no cars on the road, no one out on the street, only silence and Cooper's unending sarcasm to greet his ears.

Cooper sat with her elbow resting on the arm of the chair and her chin propped in her hand. She listened intently and absorbed the music, while Danse anxiously awaited her review.

"Country?" she quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Mhm." He waited and observed, studying her face for the final verdict, unsure of why he sought her approval.

Cooper swallowed the last of her beer and threw the empty bottle in the fire before she reached for another bottle from the cooler between them. Danse watched her struggle with the twist top before offering his hand to help. She scrunched up her nose and pursed her lips, balking at the idea of surrender.

"Give it here," he reached for the bottle and waved his fingers at her but she turned away, squinting her eyes at him in defiance over her shoulder, "Cooper. Don't be difficult."

With one final sour look, Cooper grunted and shifted around, finally handing over the beer.

Danse could feel her eyes on him as she asked, "Who is this?" and he easily twisted off the cap and tossed it into the flames.

"James McMurtry," he replied and passed the bottle back to her.

The bottle tilted up as she took a swig, "I like it."

As much as he tried, Danse couldn't stop the grin that slipped across his lips at the appraisal. He quickly grabbed his drink and gulped it down, trying to hide his smug satisfaction.

The bottle rolled in Cooper's hand before she brought it to her lips again, slowly sipping its contents. She seemed to be lost in her thoughts as she mulled over the melody. Her fingers idly traced the puckered skin of the scar that cut across her neck and down over her collarbone before disappearing beneath her shirt.

The movement made his conceited smile falter as Danse reflected on how Cooper had obtained the blemish.

Not long ago, he had asked about the distinctive mark with the jagged edges that bit at her skin like teeth tearing into flesh. Initially Cooper had told him she was mugged at knifepoint and cut when she fought back. It seemed like a reasonable explanation so he accepted the falsehood as truth without question.

The next evening had found them alone in the armory. It was late when Cooper had approached him and confessed the reality of the fatal accident that had claimed her family and left behind the loathsome scar as an ever present reminder.

Cooper had spoken nonchalantly, her expression resolute in the face of tragedy. But In the end, she let the heartache seep through the cracks when she told him, "I woke up and was devastated. So I ripped out the stitches and clawed at my throat, hoping, praying that maybe I could still bleed to death."

Although, Danse had remained steadfast - ever the model soldier - and told her he was sorry for her loss, he could feel the tugging and pulling of his own internal wounds. It was then he understood that there was more to this woman than he had originally thought and perhaps he had misjudged her after all.

"Bluegrass, country, you're just full of surprises." Cooper's voice dragged him out of his introspection and he blinked away the ghosts of his past and forced himself to be present in the here and now.

"I don't like all country." Not all country music was created equal, Danse knew this and Cooper should too.

"No?" Her lighthearted tone cradled his heart as the constricting thoughts of loss ebbed away.

Cooper's eyes quested for his muddy brown in the flickering half light of the fire and Danse could see the rapture hidden amongst the inquisition in her hazel irises.

"I'm not a fan of what comes out of corporate Nashville," he scoffed, smirking because Danse absolutely intended to mock those city boys who masqueraded as cowboys, "I don't particularly enjoy listening to good ol' boys whine about their girls and their trucks."

"So what's this?"

Cooper humored him and basked with him in his pompous analysis of the country music genre.

"Texas country." Bittersweet memories of simpler times scrolled through his thoughts.

Memories of dance halls and whisky and girls in pearl snap shirts and boots against the sand-slick dancefloor.

The little voice in his head warned at him to be careful, don't get too close, but perhaps he was a careless man because he chose to ignore it.

"I like traditional, old country. Outlaw or Texas country. Red Dirt." It seemed like an inconsequential truth but it made him feel vulnerable like he had revealed too much.

Uncertainty was grinding in his gut at his candidness and Danse was unceremoniously reminded of the incident with the dog when Cooper had been all shits and giggles. Now, he sat and waited for her reaction. Waited for her to laugh at him and crack a joke but she remained silent, staring out into the night.

Insecurity scratch at his skull as his fingers thrummed against his thigh and his eyes wandered through the blackness and watched the distant flicker of candlelight in the darkened windows of Concord homes.

Finally Cooper smiled and looked at him with wide eyes alight with merriment, "Alright cowboy, you know how to two-step?"

Without a second thought, Danse swallowed his misgivings and stood, his chair scraped against the metal roof as he stretched out his hand, beckoning for Cooper to join him. There was no hesitation and a grin the size of Texas spread across her face as she took his hand.

Danse pulled her up and led her to the open space behind their chairs. He spun her around and as she came back to him, his fingers closed around hers while his other hand came to rest on her back, just below her shoulder blade.

"You know what you're doing?" He was serious.

But Cooper hadn't stopped grinning, "Not really."

"It's like walking. But don't pick your feet up, it's more of a shuffle," he instructed "Listen for the beat, quick, quick, slow, slow. Follow my lead and you'll be fine."

A giddy sort of smile graced her lips but there was mutiny written clear as day in her eyes. Danse held her still, he knew how she was about control, they weren't so different in that regard, but if she wanted this she would have to concede.

Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed in opposition. Make me, the silent dare bounced around in the space between them.

"Cooper." The clip of his deep timbre made it clear this was non-negotiable.

"Alright!" she huffed, "Fine. Understood Sir."

Before she could continue with her taunting, Danse yanked her closer so they were chest to chest and pressed his hand into her back to straighten her stance before falling in step with the tune.

His fingers tapped the beat on her back.

Quick, Quick, Slow, Slow.

Cooper tripped over her feet a few times but quickly picked up the steps and fell into rhythm with him. He took her hands and spun her, quickly pulling her back and guiding her to step around behind him. Her hand traced along his lower back and he led her into another set of spins before they fell into step again.

Danse spun and twirled her and they moved in unison as he easily led her through the movements. Cooper's laughter echoed through the stillness around them the entire time.

They carried on like that for a few minutes before the song came to a close and he spun her one last time.

"Your kinda good at this." She was breathless as she came back to him.

The tones of the next song were softer and slower.

'Look off down the highway at the glittering lights'

"I was stationed at Fort Hood for a couple years back in the day." Cooper's honey colored hair was tied back but a few wayward strands breathed across her face and Danse wrote off the fluttering in his chest to overexertion when her eyes flicked up to his. "There isn't much to do in Killeen, TX."

'Like windshield glass on the shoulder tonight'

Danse was unexpectedly nervous when Cooper didn't fill the silence with her incessant chatter, and he felt the need to ramble.

"There was a dance hall close to base. We would spend most of our off time there."

'As the diesels come grinding on up from the plains'

"Is that how you picked up girls?" she winked and flashed that crooked smile again.

He tried to answer but Cooper slipped her hand over his mouth before the stupid, half-baked response escaped his lips.

'All bunched up like pearls on a string'

"You know what, I don't want to know about how teenage Danse picked up girls."

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he was thankful for her insight.

'And I guess time don't mean nothin' not nothin' at all'

Cooper brushed back the hair that had fallen across his forehead and his skin pricked as her fingers lightly trailed down his neck before resting on his shoulder.

'And out on the horizon the broken stars fall'

As they swayed and stepped to the music, Cooper shifted closer and leaned into him, their chests touching again, and her head settled on his shoulder. The night was cool but Danse suddenly felt hot as heat spread like wildfire from within and crept across his skin.

'Old broken stars they fall down on the land'

"You're not what I expected." Cooper muttered and he could feel the warmth of her breath against his neck.

'And get mixed together with the lights of Cheyenne'

It took all of his strength to focus on her words and resist the urge to pull her into his arms and just hold her and Danse thought, the same could be said about her.

"And what did you expect?"

"I'm not sure," she hesitated a moment, choosing her words carefully, "You walk around fearless, like you own the world. You're bossy and arrogant and rude-"

His cheeks burned and his brows furrowed at the accusation and Danse tried to interrupt but her head snapped up as she raised her hand and planted her feet on the ground.

"Hold on cowboy," she scoffed, "Don't get your panties in a knot, just let me finish."

With a grunt and a scowl, he motioned for her to continue.

"On the outside you're like an impenetrable wall," she held his gaze and she probed the warmth his muddy brown eyes, testing the water as she relaxed and fell into step, "But it's a lie."

The nervousness clawed its way back in as her hand drifted to his shoulder again.

"I see through it, I see you," again she moved closer and settled against him, " You're kind and compassionate and care deeply about your fellow man. You like country music and dogs and you're really freaking smart."

And now there was nothing to blame for the way his heart hammered in his chest.

"You hide behind the dutiful soldier. You hide your vulnerability." He glanced down at her, and it was like someone had stolen the oxygen from the air when he looked in her eyes. "Why?"

'You stand in the sky with your feet on the ground'

Danse ran his hand up the line of her back, his fingers finding their way to the curve of her neck. The firelight flickered across her face and reflected off her hazel eyes. Her honey brown hair blew in the wind and had those freckles across the bridge of her nose always been there?

'Never suspectin' a thing'

He felt her lean onto her toes and whispered in his ear, "What are you hiding from Danse?"

'But if the sky were to move you might never be found'

Everything in him screamed to stop, toss her aside and get the hell out of there. But instead he tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ear and he meant to pull away but his hand pressed against the line of her jaw and his thumb caressed her cheek.

'Never be heard from again'

"Cooper-"

POP!

Suddenly, they were bathed in light.

The breaker across the street crackled and sparked as power surged through it. Cooper jumped and let out a startled yelp and Danse sucked in his breath through clenched teeth and he waited for his heart to start beating again.

The security system started wailing, the sudden surge in energy tripping the sensors.

"Shit!" Cooper cursed and ran off down the ladder to reset the system. Danse grasped at the air, but like trying to hold water, she slipped through his fingers and just like that she was gone. Her warmth quickly replaced by the cool night air.

Danse just stood there wide-eyed and slack jawed trying to comprehend what the hell just happened.

A string of profanity hit his ears as Cooper punched in codes trying to disarm the system. Danse snapped his mouth shut and shook his head as he fished out his phone and fumbled to turn the music off. He willed himself to walk over to the edge of roof towards the city, trying to make sense of the mess in his head.

Downtown was still lit up and everywhere around him was flooded in bright light but most of east Boston was cast in shadows now.

He rubbed his forehead trying to straighten out his thoughts.

Danse had often found his mind wandering back to Cooper, but she was insubordinate, loud and audacious, challenging him constantly. Her name frequently appeared on incident reports and if there was trouble, she seemed to be the catalyst. She was a pain in the ass… and she was- Like a beautiful disaster.

It was no surprise that Danse expected to be angry with her, argue with her, strong-arm her into obedience but this… He hadn't expected this. The tenderness, the desire to be close to her-

"Danse?" Cooper waved her hand in front of his face, "Hello? You in there?"

It seemed as if she appeared out of nowhere and his muscles tensed, startled that she had managed to sneak up on him.

"I-uhm…" Unable to form his thoughts into words, Danse stared at her for a moment. He hadn't even heard the alarm turn off or noticed that she had switched off the spotlights. When did she come back up here?

"You ok?" The fire sputtered and popped in the barrel behind them as her hand touched his shoulder.

He blinked and stared as his eyes adjusted to the influx of light before attempting to respond.

"Yeah… uh sorry t-the lights," he stammered, "It just... caught me off guard."

For a moment there was silence as Cooper stood next to him. She shuffled her feet and shoved her hands in her pockets, clearly feeling just as uneasy as he did.

"I'm sorry." Cooper stared at the ground as she mumbled the apology, but for what, Danse wasn't sure.

"What for?" It felt like he should be the one apologizing.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," her tone was soft as she shifted her weight and continued staring at her feet. "It's just… you remind me of Nate sometimes."

It felt as if he had been drenched in ice water, "I see."

He hadn't expected that either, but he should have. Although he knew little to nothing about the man, he could understand why Cooper would make the connection.

Danse fidgeted and tapped his fingers against his thigh as he tried to think of all possible means of escape from this situation. Only problem was, Cooper had the keys to the truck.

"No," Her brows pulled down into a frown as her hand rested on the inside of his arm halting his tapping. Cooper had picked up on his nervous habit and she would gently press her fingers against his arm until he stopped.

"It's not a bad thing. Nate was the same way. He wanted the world to see that he was strong, a soldier, but underneath it all that's not who he really was."

She smiled up at him and ran her fingers along the inside of his arm seeking to reassure him.

But Danse was still trying to make sense of what just happened. Trying to process the events and compartmentalize how he felt about it. Cooper… Cooper was a complication. A beautiful, obstinate, complication who still belonged to another man...

"Stop it." Like a hot knife through butter, Cooper cut off his pessimistic thought process.

"Everyone has a few skeletons in the closet." There was empathy in her voice but she also begged, "Please don't over analyse this."

How had he allowed her to get this close? To anticipate his thoughts and actions. To understand and know him. Despite her intrepid nature, Cooper hadn't come crashing through his walls, rather she had been slowly, carefully tearing them down, brick by brick, without him even realizing what she was doing.

"It's getting late." Unsure of how to proceed, he figured the best plan of action was to leave, "We should get going."

Danse helped Cooped gathered up their things and doused the flames with the melted ice from the cooler.

As he surveyed the area to ensure nothing was left behind, he felt Cooper's hand slipped into his, her fingers threading together with his. Danse knew he should have pulled away, put a stop to this here and now. Not allowed for the lines to blur but he realized the lines had started to blur a long time ago.

And if he was being honest, he liked the way her hand felt in his.

"Come on cowboy, let's go home."

Warmth was pooling within him again as Cooper pulled him toward the ladder and when he caught her gaze, her eyes were fixed on the skyline, hazel irises aglow with the lights of Boston.

Danse smiled and dared to dream that one day, when the war was over, he would do this right. He would take her to the Texas dance halls of his youth, to see the Hill Country and the Texas sky at night where a billion stars glittered like tiny lights into an endless horizon. He would take her away from the heartache of this place and show her all the things her eyes had never seen.

He dared to dream.

Dream a dream that would likely never come true.