Back again, and sad that March break is almost over. Ah well.

Disclaimer: I own neither the concept, the setting, the title, nor most of the characters. I may as well bear no responsability for this fic, which luckily means that I can blame other people for how bad it is!

The Way We Live Now
-Tales of NDCSH-

25

Saturday night. 80's pop blared through iPod speakers in the corner, the bass beat thudding in her ribcage. Esmeralda was dancing, with Leila and two other old buddies and a gaggle of Leila's friends who she'd never met before tonight. She was having a Good Time.

The party was not as bad as he had said it would be. But it wasn't quite law-abiding either. It struck the rebellious Roma in her as a perfect balance. It was a great party. There were lots of people, lots to eat and drink, space to dance. Leila's parents were out of town, and she'd moved all the valuables out so she could clean up easy and they'd never know.

This music was awesome. And Leila's friends all thought she was an amazing dancer and she was having so much fun. She whooped, trying out a spinning jump and throwing her hands in the air.

Her landing was unsteady- her right ankle twisted slightly, throwing her off-balance, and she stumbled forward. "Woah," she grunted, and then suddenly she found it hilarious, hilarious that she'd stumbled like that, and she began to giggle.

One of Leila's friends, the one in the golf shirt whose name was something like Kevin, stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder as if to steady her. She was wearing a sleeveless top, and the touch against her bare skin gave her a strange, shivery feeling. "Hey, careful there."

"I am not drunk," said Esmeralda, staunchly. Then she broke into a goofy grin. "I just can't dance."

"Yes you can," said Kevin-or-something, "I saw you. One stumble doesn't mean anything. You're the best dancer I've ever seen."

A moment ago, Leila and the gang had been very close by, but now it seemed as if the two of them, her and Kevin-or-something, were very isolated. She didn't mind. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely," said Kevin-or-something. "You're, ah, you're amazing."

She couldn't remember if Phoebus had ever mentioned her dancing. "Thanks," she said, shyly.

The boy moved a little closer. He had a narrow, attractive face, slightly stubbly, and his hair was gelled into a slight ski-jump. He was flirting with her. If Phoebus had been here, she knew exactly how he would react- body language polite but firm, and with a smile, he would subtly make it clear that she was his girl, no others need apply.

But Phoebus wasn't here. And he didn't own her. Other guys could talk to her. She could go to parties on her own. And out of all the girls in the room he'd picked her.

"Am... I the sexiest, too?" she asked, staring up at him, her voice low.

Kevin-or-something looked as if he couldn't believe his luck. "Definitely," he breathed, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him.

The kiss was long, much longer than she'd wanted it, and jarring. She wanted to end it after only a moment, because his tongue was in her mouth and his arm on her back felt uncomfortable and wrong and his other hand was creeping towards her chest, but he kept wanting more. Finally, she broke away, grimacing, and wiped at her mouth.

She could not believe what she had just done. She turned, giving Kevin a look of disgust, and left.

Did not enjoy writing that. It might be easier if I'd ever actually been drunk.

-Mostly Harmless.