A/N: Wow, you guys are just the greatest! Thank you for all the reads, reviews, and support!

Tongue On The Blade

"Let's go then."

He grabbed her hand and started tugging her towards the dance floor, but she dug her heels in and refused to budge. He turned around to see her staring daggers at his hand wrapped around hers, like his fingers weren't flesh and bone and hot blood, but rather poisonous snakes so eagerly waiting to squeeze the life out of her.

"Changed your mind?"

He knew she hadn't, he knew the only thing worse for her than accepting his challenge and failing was reneging on it, because if she did, that was undisputable proof that she did not trust herself around him and that he had as good as won.

She shot him a withering look.

"No, I just need another drink or five first."

She leaned back over the counter to try to flag down the bartender, who looked quite busy with a party of eight down at the other end of the bar, many of whom were yelling angrily for tequila shots. He knew she was trying to stall, and quite frankly he didn't have the time or patience right now to indulge her – make no mistake, he would have played her little game if he could, would have been delighted to make her stew in anticipation until the tension was unbearable, but he didn't have time, he could almost hear it ticking away like a timer on a bomb – so he yanked her hard enough away from the bar that she stumbled into him, eliciting a yelp of both surprise and indignation as she hastily pushed herself away from his chest.

"What the fuck –"

"Stop stalling. Come on, I thought you were brave. Don't tell me a little dance with me is making you run for the hills."

He reached his hand out for hers again; there was no way he was letting her get away with just a promise of following him into the thumping crowd. There was a good chance that they would get separated by accident, and an even better chance that she would pull a fast one on him. He could see it now – Travis finding him searching through the crowd, both of them walking towards the door, and he would see her standing there innocently, her smile so wicked he would want to throttle her and ravish her at the same time right there, audience be damned. He just knew he would think of that devilish grin, complete with teeth biting at her lower lip, when he would get himself off in his bathroom once he got home, his strangled moans and gasps muffled somewhat by running water and chirping crickets, his worry that he would be heard by his mother thankfully negated by the sight of the empty bottle of rum on the kitchen table before he took the stairs two at a time. He knew it would be perfect for her – she could claim that she really did intend on dancing with him, Girl Scout's honor, cross her cold heart, but that they just got separated and that she was lucky to make it to the door to find Travis and tell him where to look for him, and he would have no way of proving that she ditched him on purpose. He was not about to let her get away with that – she was crafty, but so was he, and he knew now was not the time to take a chance. She was like a spitting cat backed into a corner, looking thoroughly and often for the first opening to escape, and he'd be damned if he gave her any such opportunity.

She glanced at his hand and bit her lip, and he knew she knew she was caught, but of course she would never give him the satisfaction of gloating. She shot him a hard look at his raised eyebrow and outstretched hand before giving up with a heavy sigh and reluctantly placing her hand in his.

"Just try not to step on me."

"No promises."


He led her into the middle of the dance floor, which he knew ironically provided the most privacy – no one could really see what or whom you were doing, and to put it bluntly, they didn't really care because more than likely they were doing the exact same thing. If you were on the edges, you would be visible to the people at the bar and at tables, and they might be a little more sober and get a bit more offended at your antics. Plus, he didn't want other people privy to something that was for him and Violet alone – she was his, and so were their moments, especially ones like these.

He looked back at her to see her face flushed, her eyes wide and focused to their left, completely engrossed in the pulsating mass of bodies. He didn't blame her – the atmosphere was intoxicating, the combination of hazy darkness, music, lust, and alcohol heady. Nevertheless he chuckled slightly at her, which snapped her attention back to him and earned him a light slap on the wrist.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. You're just so mesmerized by them. Don't tell me you never danced at all those bars you illegally snuck into back in Boston."

She harrumphed at him before turning back to stare at a heavily tattooed couple, one sporting blue curls and the other short lime green hair, gyrating to the beat, her arm bent back around his head, his hands tightly holding onto her hips. She watched them make out passionately for a second before sighing.

"Of course I did. I loved dancing back then. I still do. For me, it's just like singing – I can lose myself in it. The music. The beat. I lose all inhibition, I forget about my shit family, I give even less of a fuck about what's socially appropriate, and I can tap into the most primal, alive part of myself. I can finally let go. It's freeing and I love watching when other people reach that part of themselves, where they just say fuck it and make their wildest fantasies reality."

He couldn't help what he said next, even though he knew it sounded cheesy as hell, but he just couldn't stop himself because she looked so stunning with the strobe lights illuminating her face pink, green, gold, blue, purple, deep vibrant purple like her name, looking hungrily at the dancers like she just wanted to eat up their energy and sensuality. She had just been vulnerable to him again, even if she didn't realize it at first, but she also was predatory, eyeing the dancers like a lioness eyeing her prey, and that mix was fucking with his head.

He dipped his mouth by her ear.

"That's beautiful."

She jolted at the sound of him so close to her and then seemed to remember who he was. She rolled her eyes at him, and her armor was back in place.

"Shut up."

Maybe it was the loudness of the music, but he thought that her retort didn't seem as biting as usual. But before he had the chance to think about it, the deep boom of drums permeated the air and she smiled a mean little smile at him.

"I love this song."

And then she began dancing.


A/N: I know you all hate me, but don't worry – dancing will be next, and I've already started writing it.