Part 7
For days, soft, wet snow had been falling. It not only blanketed the world, but the air itself seemed quieter... except for inside the barn.
"Oh, come on, Wyatt."
"No."
D.G. had finally cornered Wyatt as he was doing the evening chores.
"Please..."
"No."
She knew she could break him, it would just take time.
"You might actually have fun."
"No."
But time was running out.
"Why not?"
"Why should I?"
Oh my God, an answer!
"Because you're the only reason I passed the damn class!"
Wyatt sighed and D.G. knew the battle was half-won.
"And I just found out I'm the only one not bringing someone."
How's that for big guns?!
"You're not gonna try to get me into a tux are you?"
Life was great. Just freaking peachy.
The whole thing had started as a night out for the ballroom class; find some place where they could show off the moves that they had been working on as they rang in the new year. Then someone asked if a boyfriend could be brought, since there were less guys. That somehow morphed into everyone but DG bringing a date, which lead to her having to beg Wyatt into a pity date.
Okay, as pity dates went, hers looked surprisingly hot in a suit. But, still...
And now, on top of everything else, David was there.
"Well, well, well... If it isn't Miss D.G. Roberts."
D.G. took a deep breath before she answered: "What do you want, David."
"Want?" David took a half-step back. "It's been nearly a year since I saw you. All I want is to tell you how good you look."
The look he was giving her - well, her breasts - made her want to slap him
"If you looked this good last year, I never would have dumped you."
D.G. took a sip of her drink. "If I looked this good last year, I never would have gone out with you." The rest of the drink, she tossed in David's face before walking away.
"That's a waste of good booze, kid," Wyatt said as she sat down.
D.G. picked up Wyatt's glass. "Well, it was either that or slap him, and I painted my nails today."
"You wanna get out of here?" Wyatt asked as he looked at his now-empty glass.
"Well..."
Wyatt sighed. "Oh God. You want me to dance, don't you?"
The night had just taken an amazing turn for the better. Granted, it did come at the expense of D.G. feeling horrible, but still... Wyatt was back in his room, in sweats, just after ten.
"Old-school pirates or cowboys in space?"
Wyatt looked over the two movies D.G. was holding up; the exchange for getting out of the dinner dance from Hell was an evening of movies and ice cream. Lots of ice cream.
"Which one will have the fewest comments?" he asked.
D.G. thought about it for a second. "The amount would be the same, but with The Black Swan, it would be more me bitching about what a whiner Maureen O'Hara is were as, with Serenity, it would be more about Mal's pants and Jayne's arms. Oh! And Simon's... Yeah, know what?"
Wyatt groaned. "We're watching Serenity?"
This was so much better. Simon would never say something so cruel. Hell, even Jayne wouldn't say what David had said!
Plus there was chocolate ice cream and ice cream always makes things better.
"You were awesome tonight Wyatt."
And that big glass of wine might have helped things along some.
"Really, you were just cool and there for me, and you even went along with my half-baked idea about me flaunting what David couldn't have any more." D.G. put her empty bowl on the floor. "You are like this awesome... white knight, big brother, person." She stretched out on the sofa and propped her head on Wyatt's thigh, "Yeah, big brother Wyatt, ready to save the day."
Crap, Book was right: There was a Special Hell and Wyatt was in it right now.
Wyatt groaned to himself. Big brother Wyatt. If she moved the hand that was under her head just a few inches to the left, she might find out just how big and un-brotherly Wyatt really was. It wasn't like he had really been wanting this, but she had been doing this thing with her foot along his calf as she ate her ice cream and, now, the whole absent-minded rubbing of his thigh really wasn't helping matters.
"Oh, turn the channel," DG poked him in the side. "It's almost time for the ball to drop!"
Wyatt grumbled as he reached for the remote. DG sat up and poured out two glasses of soda. "Eight! Seven! Six!" D.G. yelled along with the TV. "Five! Four! Three! Two! One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
He watched as D.G. up-ended her glass. "Happy New Year, D.G."
Wyatt nearly died when, suddenly, D.G.'s hand was back on his thigh. "Happy New Year, Wyatt!"
Oh, so that's what kissing D.G. would be like. Yeah, definitely the Special Hell.
