I hope you all like this chapter! It will probably take a while for the next one because I have to severely edit it. If I put it in as is, I may have to change the rating to M, which is something I really don't want to do. Anyway, here's this one!
She played the song again on her computer and held the paper he had just filled out, checking the filled in blanks. "Bien, bien, bien," she nodded as each of the words he had written were revealed to be correct by the song. "'Amor' significa 'love' y 'dolor' significa 'pain,'" she translated, looking up at him.
"Those two always seem to go together, don't they?" he commented under his breath with a raised eyebrow.
She scoffed in agreement. "Bien," she murmured, "'Pasión' tiene un acento sobre la 'o,'" she corrected, glancing up at him. "Bien! Casi perfecto," she complimented as the song ended. "I'm sorry if this seems juvenile," she said, pursing her lips, "It's just, it's a great way to practice listening and to remember vocabulary."
He shook his head. "You're a great teacher," he assured her, staring into her eyes.
She blushed slightly. "Thanks," she smiled earnestly, looking away, "I…tutored a bit during high school and college."
"Does all Spanish music sound like that?" he asked her, leaning back in his chair.
"Oh no," she laughed, "That was just a silly pop song that was relatively easy to understand," she shrugged, "There's actually a huge variety." She stared at him, licked her lips, then pulled her computer onto her lap. "The Spanish language is pretty closely linked to a lot of dances. Like…the tango," she gave as an example, finding a tango song on her computer. "I wish I had a video of a tango to show you," she murmured, "I think you'd really like it."
He listened carefully to the wordless music as it started out quiet and timid, the higher strings climbing and inching up and down. With a heavy segue provided by another instrument, it then broke out into a robust and romantic but melancholy melody, accompanied by a dramatic pulse kept by the lower voices. She was right – he did like it. The strings quieted again, leaving only an interwoven rhythm of sliding notes and plucked strings to follow. Suddenly, the volume grew louder and the combination of sounds, some foreign to his ear, exuded a cool and confident sensuality as the melody resounded for a second time. The high strings emotionally wailed on the high notes, sending a chill up his spine as their tones resonated against the walls of her quarters.
"Anyway, the tango is danced all around the world, but it originated in Argentina," she said quietly, noticing how entranced he had become, as the song ended on a gentle cadence. "And then there's, oh salsa," she grinned.
"Isn't that a food?" he asked, squinting, "Sheppard talks about it a lot."
She laughed again. "It is. It's like a sauce made with tomatoes and such," she explained, gesturing with her right hand. "But it's also a dance. It's actually pretty easy," she insinuated, glancing over at him as if she were devising a plan.
"No," he said preemptively, shaking his head, "I don't dance."
She clicked another, more upbeat song on her computer. "Stand up," she grinned widely.
He stared at her for a moment, the overwhelming percussive tones seeming to hammer at his brain, ticking away the seconds as he debated his options, until he realized her smile could make him do anything. He stood up in surrender, arms crossed giving her a look that said this better be worth it.
"Hold out your hands, palms up," she instructed.
He ran his tongue along his back teeth and begrudgingly obliged, holding out his hands, jaw clenched. She placed her own in his.
"Ok, so the rhythm is quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, slow," she explained.
"Good rhythm," he said suggestively, raising an eyebrow.
She stifled a laugh at the joke. "Quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, slow," she repeated, still smiling, "or 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7. Does that kind of make sense?" she asked.
He nodded. "Sort of."
"Ok, now the man leads," she told him, looking up into his face, "So you step forward with your left…left?" she looked down at their feet, "Yeah left foot and I go back with my right. You always go forward on the downbeat, I always go back," she demonstrated by making him do the movement slowly. "Ok, then we go back to how we started. Then you go back on your right foot and I go forward with my left. That's the basic salsa step," she concluded. "Ready?" she asked.
He nodded, looking down at their feet.
"1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7," she counted. He moved his left leg forward and she followed.
He followed the vibrant, cheerful beat as the singer's voice temporarily dropped out, leaving a chorus of bold horns, drums, and another wooden instrument that kept time. "This is easy," he admitted, looking up from their feet to her face.
"I told ya," she smirked, her green eyes sparkling in the dim light, "Ok, so this is called closed position. Now let's try open position. Follow my lead for just a second." She let go of one hand and stepped sideways. He mirrored her. They returned to the basic position, then stepped the other way. "That's open position," she described as they returned to the basic closed position step. "You lead now," she ordered confidently.
The way she was looking into his eyes made it feel like a challenge. He tried his best to lead her for the short remainder of the song. For most of the song, his eyes fixated on her hips as they moved in motion with the music, popping on the unstressed beats of the steps. Every time he tried to look away, he somehow found himself staring at them again.
"You're a strong lead," she complimented as the percussive elements halted and the song died out, her voice slightly shaking. He saw that her cheeks and chest were flushing. He could always tell that he was making her nervous when that happened. Another song started on her computer.
"Is this salsa?" he asked her, noticing the difference in tempo and instrumentation. This song was much slower, more sensual.
"Bachata," she stated, an unreadable change in expression overcoming her, "It's Dominican. It's…pretty easy too. Although it might be a bit harder since you're so tall," she told him, avoiding his gaze.
"Teach me."
She stared him down and finally stepped closer to him. Her scent overwhelmed him. "Well, one of the holds is different," she began, her breath labored. She shifted her right hand in his left. "This goes here," she instructed as she moved his right hand to her upper back, then put her arm over his. "And the stance, too," she swallowed. She straddled his right leg. He no longer heard any of the words she was saying and tried his best to follow her movements. Again, he was distracted by her hips, popping every few beats. He heard her mutter something about high heels. He felt her heat radiating against him, and was suddenly very conscious of how close their legs were, interwoven together. Occasionally her leg would brush against his lap or her pelvic bone would bump against his leg. He felt a passion and yearning for her grow stronger in his chest.
Mira, cómo estoy sufriendo. Me quemo por dentro, por sentir tu amor.
Mami, no me hagas eso. Sabes que te quiero, con todo el corazón.
All of the background music dropped out of the song, leaving just the intimate sound of the singers' voices and a vague beat to dance to. She spun in his arms and no longer faced him. One of his arms was now entwined around her waist as they continued to move in rhythm. He controlled and fought back every natural, carnal instinct he possessed as he got caught in a wave of her perfumed hair and skin. She spun back out and he took the lead, pushing her out, then pulling her back in, hardly conscious of the movements he was making.
Mira, cómo estoy sufriendo. Me quemo por dentro, por sentir tu amor.
He dipped her in his arms as the song ended, supporting all of her weight with one of his arms. He pulled her back up and stared into her eyes; she stared back, breathing hard. Their torsos were an inch from touching. He felt her breath on his chest. Her legs started to quiver around his own. "Nice move," she tried to say, but no sound came out. She cleared her throat. "Nice move," she smiled tensely, breaking free of his grasp. "That's bachata," she concluded lamely, closing her computer. He could visibly tell that she was still rattled and maybe even aroused. He watched her chest rise and fall as she pulled her hair off the back of her neck in an attempt to cool down.
"How do you know all this?" he asked her, intrigued, trying to distract himself.
"My roommate in college dragged me to Salsa Club every Wednesday," she laughed, gripping onto the desk behind her for support as if it were the only thing preventing her from melting into the floor.
"You're good," he told her with a subtle nod in her direction.
"Eh. I'm decent. I know the basics," she qualified, "And you're a quick study," she complimented.
"I guess sparring and dancing aren't that different," he reasoned.
She nodded, staring at him again. He swore he saw something flash across her eyes, but it was gone before he realized what it was.
"Anyway, good night Emma," he said.
"Good night," she whispered. He grabbed his holster and gun and headed to her doorway, then ran his hand over the control panel. "Oh my God," she exhaled deeply as soon as the door was shut. She swore she was going to burst any second. Her body felt like it had electric currents running through her blood making her tremble. She had danced the bachata countless times, but never like that.
Ronon headed directly to the gym from her quarters where he quickly passed Sheppard.
"Hey buddy, what's up?" Sheppard greeted cheerfully.
"I love Spanish," he said enthusiastically, gripping Sheppard tightly by the shoulders, then letting go and continuing on his way.
A/N: I do NOT own any part of the bachata song I mentioned. That credit goes to the group Xtreme for their song "Te extraño." If you go on YouTube and search the band name and then the song, the first result is a super SUPER sensual (and good) version of the bachata if you've never seen it before.
The lyrics in English are:
"Look at how I'm suffering. I'm burning on the inside to feel your love.
Baby, don't do this to me. You know that I love you, with all of my heart."