Author's Note: Normally I use the dialogue prompt directly in the story somewhere, but this one... I couldn't bring myself to have the character say it like that. So it is slightly different.
Now maybe I can write a longer update. Or I will fall asleep trying.
Can I Have This Dance?
I suppose it could have been worse, Nancy thought. I could have been stuck in one of those bridesmaids' gowns. Huge, way over the top with taffeta, in the worst color ever, they seemed designed to humiliate that woman's friends—who probably wouldn't speak to her after all this was done.
Still, she still couldn't make herself happy to be here, at a wedding halfway across the country, watching one of her father's old friends' daughters get married. It wasn't that she was all that envious—she wasn't ready for marriage and would much rather be chasing down a mystery—but she didn't know anyone here but her father. He was off in the side of the room, talking business of some kind.
She sighed. She couldn't help feeling bored and... maybe a little lonely.
She emptied her glass of punch, wondering how much longer this party was going to last.
"Fancy meeting you here," a voice said next to her, and she found herself staring at Frank Hardy, of all people.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh, the bride's father used to work with Dad, so he said we should come. Joe took the opportunity to find himself a bridesmaid or two, and I'm not really sure why I came—it's not like I can stop Joe or anything—but I'm here."
He was, and he looked good, too. She put down her cup and held out a hand. "Well, since you are here and all..."
"What?"
"Let's dance."