Disclaimers: None of the SVU characters of mine, except for Michelle Mendicez. References to other shows are meant as a crossover, but nothing heavy.
Author's Note: I guess that I am really getting back in to this story! Two chapters, in less than three days! I'm proud of myself, for not dropping the story, completely!
Dan: Thanks for your review! I'm glad that you like the story, and I am relieved that you don't find Michelle to be a Mary Sue! I also completely agree with you; people do seem a bit quick to jump the gun about Original Characters, don't they? Well, I appreciate your encouraging words! I hope that you enjoy the new chapter!
Sandra: Thank you for your review! Your right! John doing the macarena would be absolutely priceless!
Well, with that out of the way, I give you Chapter Seven, just as promised! I hope that you enjoy it!
Elliot let out a small laugh, as he twirled Michelle around the dance floor. It was amazing; someone else in the squad actually knew how to salsa dance properly. That was something that he never would have bet on.
As he continued, with a basic beginner step, Elliot caught a glance of the rest of the crowd. Another laugh escaped his throat, as he took in the sight; Olivia was tripping over John, the result of one beer too many; Alex was dancing with Brian, the result of a big partner shuffle just moments before hand. Elliot realized that, just a few minutes prior, he had seen Brian jump up from the table, and head to Olivia. That left a period of time where Alex was nowhere to be seen, though, now, she was back, and dancing her heart out. If he didn't know any better, Elliot would have thought that Brian was really having fun.
"No way in hell," Elliot thought to himself, silently. "That pair would never work out."
A laugh from Michelle drove Elliot from his mind blowing thoughts, and he looked up at her. She had stopped dancing, and was covering her mouth with her right hand.
"You okay?" Elliot asked, confused.
Michelle just nodded, and, with her left hand, pointed behind her. She mumbled something, her right hand still covering her mouth, and Elliot had to strain to hear just that much.
"What did you just say?" he asked, as he leaned in closer.
As she removed her right hand from her mouth, continuing to point with the left, and let out another laugh.
"Oh, my God," Elliot thought to himself, silently, as he rolled his eyes.
"I said, 'Brian just tripped on my dress, and fell on the floor'!" She glared up at Elliot. "Did you hear me that time?" She kept her face in an annoyed expression for a minute, which made Elliot hope that she wasn't about to start an arguement. However, his fears were relieve fairly quickly; Michelle smiled, and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Oh, that's mature," Elliot joked.
"I thought so," Michelle said, with a smile. Elliot smiled back, and shook his head, lightly, from side to side.
"Let's just dance. Like adults," he suggested, adding the last bit as a joke. With a nod from Michelle, which Elliot took as an agreement, the two went back to finishing up dancing to the rest of the song.
Fin heard the song change, from something that he was sure was in Spanish, to something slow and romantic.
"Now, or never," he said to himself, silently. He rose from his bar stool, straightened out his suit, and made his way toward the dance floor.
With a small sigh, George returned his gaze to the counter of the bar. He had just finished up a conversation with Emil Skoda, who had since left, off to find his wife. At least, that was what George thought that Emil had said. He wouldn't bet his money on it, though.
The night was really beginning to bring George down; he had no one to go and see in the morning, as he didn't have the chance to visit his family, this year. His plans for the following day were rather bland, consisting of reading the latest issue of Psychology Monthly, followed by realphabetizing his shelf of medical journals, watching some television, and sinking in to oblivion, all from the comfort of his own couch. Not that he cared to celebrate Christmas; it was the fact that he couldn't get away for New Years that was really bringing him down. To top it all off, he was at this party, sitting at the bar, all alone. If that wasn't depressing, then he didn't know what was.
George was about to pick up his coat, and walk out of the door, when he felt pressure on his arm. He spun around, and found the newest member of the SVU, her left hand on his right shoulder. He smiled, as best he could, ever the optimistic, and gave a greeting.
"Hello, Detective," he said, warmly. However, a frown crossed his lips, as he saw Michelle, shaking her head, from side to side.
"No Detective crap tonight, Doc," she requested, with a laugh, as she removed her hand. "It's just 'Michelle'."
"I'm finding that rather common," George replied, dryly.
Michelle tilted her head to the left a bit. "What?"
"Nothing," he assured her, waving his right hand in front of him. "I've got it. Your name, I mean."
Michelle nodded, and took a breath. "This seat taken?" she asked, pointed to the bar stool in front of her.
George smiled. "Fell free." He watched, as Michelle started to sit down, but, in a matter of mere seconds, jumped back up. "Something wrong?" he asked, curiously.
"Would you like to dance?" Michelle asked, with a smile.
George was tempted to bite his bottom lip, for a moment, before restraining himself. He took another second to consider, and looked back at Michelle.
"Uh, not right now, thanks. See me for the next one, though, alright?"
Michelle shrugged a little. "Sure. Is it alright by you if I still sit here?"
Giving a small laugh, George nodded. "Of course." He continued to watch, as Michelle began to sit down, again, this time, making it all the way down.
Michelle picked up a piece of paper, which happened to be the same drink list that George, himself, had scanned earlier that night. She looked it over, and set it back on the table.
"Quite a list, huh?" George asked, referring to the wide selection of drinks that were being offered for the night.
"You aren't kidding." Michelle looked up at him, locking eyes for a minute, and picked the list up, again. She reread the extensive selection. "Too bad they're all alcoholic beverages," she said, with a small sigh.
Naturally, being a psychologist, George was curious about the statement. "You sound disappointed by that."
"I am," Michelle replied, with a quick nod.
"Don't you drink?"
Michelle shook her head, from side to side. "Bad experience in college." She looked back at the paper, still in her hand, and, for the second time, set it back down on the counter. She looked back up at George, and smiled, again. "Things better left to the past."
George nodded, in understanding. Suddenly, the tune of the music changed, from one slow song, to another. Suppressing a grin, George stood up, and turned to Michelle.
"Where are you off to?" she asked, curiously.
George held out his right hand to her. "I told you that I would dance the next one with you, didn't I?" Unable to withhold his smile, George let it spread across his face, as Michelle did the same.
"Let's go, then," Michelle said, cheerfully. Taking George's hand, Michelle rose from her bar stool, switched hands, so the her right hand was clasped around George's left, and the two headed off, toward the dance floor.
Author's Note: It appears as though my chapters are getting shorter, and shorter! Well, there you have it! I hope that you enjoyed it. I know, I left Fin hanging, there, a bit. However, I will have it all straightened out, soon, as I should have Chapter Eight up sometime within the next twelve to twenty-four hours! Thanks for reading! As always, I look forward to your kind words! Until the next chapter...