Title: It's Your Lead

Author: AlexCabotIsQueen

Summary: I always thought "our dance" was just a metaphor.

Bobby POV

I always liked dancing. Even when I was a teenager. I remember learning different styles. Just hoping that I would have something that was desirable. After all, those guys in the movies that danced got the girl. Maybe it would work for me.

I think I was just using it as an excuse to get close to a girl I really liked. Without her being uncomfortable with it. Most of the time, I just got a few moments and that was it. But as I got older, I perfected my charm and my technique and got more than just a few moments. No woman can resist a man that can dance.

Or at least that's been my experience. It's been a long accepted theory that a man that could dance would be an excellent lover because he knew how to control his own body. I don't know about all that. But I've never gotten any complaints.

But as of late. I really. Haven't had much time for anyone. Between work and my mother. It wouldn't be hardly fair to any woman to be attached to me right now. So, I'm lonely. I really hate being alone. So, tonight. I decided I would go out. Little place I know. Great drinks, and I can watch the people dance.

I love to watch people anyway. The volumes we speak without saying a word. It's very intriguing to me. To watch people dance. The dynamic between them. And they way they position themselves with their partners. Well, let's just say it's a wonderful exercise in reading body language.

I sit in my own little darkened corner. Watching. Lost in thought. About all the darkness I see everyday. And how. I long for someone to brighten my darkest moments...Be careful what you wish for...

I hadn't seen her yet, but I knew she was in the room. I could feel her. I didn't need for her to wave hello to know it. We're connected. This. This thing between us. It allows for this knowing.

And then. There she was. Our eyes met. That devilish grin of hers. She strode over to me, her glass of sherry in hand.

"Hello Bobby." The very voice that haunts my every waking nightmare. Those cold eyes that burn into your soul.

"Nicole Wallace. Why is it everywhere I go, there you are?"

"Are you suggesting that I'm following you? That's a bit paranoid even for you. Listen, I just wanted to say that I heard about your poor mother. That's terrible what they did to her."

I'm quickly losing patience with her. Like she has any right at all to discuss my mother with me.Why is she even here in front of me? What could she possibly want. Other than to ruin my night...

"I wanted to let you know, darling. I would never. Attempt something like that. I know what's off limits."

"Good to hear it. What do you want Nicole?"

"Bobby, you would think that I would have an ulterior motive speaking with you. Two people that are involved like we are..."

"We. Are not involved. You are..."

"The one that got away. That always gets away. That can get under your skin. What bothers you is that no matter how hard you try...I'm still here. And I'm still in the back of your mind."

I hate that she's right. But she knows it. She wouldn't offer that kind of statement if she didn't believe it was true. Nicole might be a liar, but she speaks the truth. Her reality and fantasy often exist on the same plane.

She smiles and takes a sip of her sherry. Never taking her eyes off of me.

"You know you're right don't you, Nicole? You know that you frustrate me and you. Came over here to rub it in my face. Haven't you had enough of that? Last time, that really. Blew up in your face didn't it?"

"Well, I still escaped. A little worse for the ware, but here I am. A free citizen."

"For the moment."

She reaches out and strokes my hand, "You know, love. I have missed our little chats. I missed you."

"That's so touching." In that weird uncle sort of way.

"I'm being serious Bobby. I just wanted to be close to you. For a moment."

"Everyone close to you dies Nicole. That's what you do to people. You. Destroy them."

Almost on cue, the music switches to a tango. Like I was trapped in some weird musical. But I knew this one way that I could get the jump on her. Up until this point, I had thought our dance was purely a metaphor...So, I stand.

"Do you know how to tango?"

"Forbidden dance...Of course I do. And I would love to."