Mission: Polishing the Incandescent Slow Dance

"If you dance with your heart, your body will follow." – Mia Michaels

Loid shut the door to the bathroom after putting away the towels, approaching the living room now until he caught movement from the corner of his eye.

Yor was pacing around the coffee table, hand on her face, eyes furrowed with concern.

Loid made his presence know. "Yor?" he observed the way she twitched and tensed up, immediately trying to mask her worry with a poorly concealed cheerfulness.

"O-Oh, Loid! Hello." Yor quickly sat down on the couch and poured herself more coffee, as if that would help calm her nerves.

Loid grabbed the milk pot from the kitchen and a mug for himself as he sat down at the table, the clock reading 9pm.

"Isn't it a bit late for coffee?" he frowned when he saw Yor's hands shaking, Loid gently set down her mug and poured a generous amount of milk into it. "You'll upset your stomach if you drink so much black coffee, Yor."

"Oh, yes, t-thank you Loid." She accepted the mug meekly and sipped from her beverage, her posture still rigid.

It reminded Twilight of Sylvia's training back when he had been a rookie. A involuntary shiver raced down his spine at the thought.

"Is there something bothering you? You can tell me." Loid waited patiently for Yor to gather her courage, nursing his coffee and observing Bond slowly shuffle his way forward to lay down in-between them, Bond's head facing Yor.

After much consideration, Yor finally relented, her eyes staring into the milky brown liquid of her coffee. "There is this… party at work, Mr. Barnes wants all the employees to attend."

Loid nodded, bending down slightly to absentmindedly pet Bond, his tail wiggling happily at the touch and hitting Loid's leg.

Yor gripped her mug tighter. "I tried to excuse myself on being busy that evening, but the chief insisted everyone attend." Yor finally glanced up to meet his eyes. "With their spouses."

Then, it dawned on Loid.

The last time they've been to a formal gathering, Loid had mistakenly introduced himself as her husband. Yor's colleagues had been there as well.

He also remembered the incident with Camilla and her rude comments towards Yor. Her other colleagues hadn't been any nicer either.

Loid grimaced at the memory. "We don't have to go if you don't want to. If you like, I can call Mr. Barnes and tell him Anya is sick or something." Twilight was certain chief Barnes hadn't forgotten him, if he had, perhaps it was time the spy paid him another visit after work hours.*

Yor firmly shook her head. "Please don't, I don't think he'll listen to you either… it's alright if I go alone, you don't have to come with me." She offered him a small, reassuring smile but the persistent sting of concern stabbed at his heart.

Loid knew Yor would become the center of attention if she were the only one attending the party without her spouse, it would give way to unpleasant rumors and her colleagues would ruthlessly bully Yor.

No, he had to attend.

"No, Yor, of course I'll come too. We can ask Franky to babysit Anya for the evening until we get home. Bond will be here too, won't you?" the dog in question heaved a sigh as if in agreement and Loid couldn't resist petting his back again, his tail thumping against Loid's leg again.

The barest hint of tears filled Yor's eyes and the smile she bestowed him with was brighter than the lamp above their heads. "Thank you, Loid."

Bond's ears perked up at the sound of Yor's sniffling, he got up from his position flat on the floor and jumped on the couch, a reprimand was on the tip of Loid's tongue until he saw Bond rest his head on Yor's lap and nudging and licking her hand, as if to offer comfort in the only way he knew how.

Yor laughed, wiping away her tears before she petted Bond and cuddled his big head. "Thank you too Bond. Too bad you can't come with us." She giggled when Bond whined, thumping his tail as if to protest.

Loid smiled at the scene, before he remembered an important question. "Oh, you said this was a formal party with your colleagues from work, right?"

Yor nodded in agreement and Loid inquired further. "Is dancing required?"

Yor jumped as if she remembered something. "Oh, yes! Sharon was telling me about it the other day, she said she'll likely stick to the buffet because her husband can't dance to save his life." She giggled at the memory.

Loid felt himself sweat. "…Can you dance, Yor?" he didn't want to assume anything, of course.

According to the confident smile on her face, there was a 50% chance she could, in fact, dance.

"Of course, I can. Here, let me show you Loid." When his wife grabbed his hands and pulled him up to his feet with so much force he didn't even need to use his own strength to get up, Loid had a sinking feeling about it.

The churning sensation in his stomach got confirmed as soon as Yor started nearly dismembering him on the spot. Or as she called it "dancing".

Her movements were quick, but brutal and wild, her arms and legs twisting and turning in a fashion Loid was sure wasn't was considered the classic definition of dancing in any country he'd heard of. Unless Yor had took up dance lessons from a knife thrower or an assassin.

Putting all the strength he had, Loid tugged Yor so her wild movements stopped, least she accidentally hit him in the face and sent him flying against the wall with a concussion as she had done with her brother.

"W-Wait Yor!" Yor stopped, looking up at Loid quizzically. "I think the dances at formal work parties are more…slower." Loid took the liberty of sliding his hand from her wrist to her hand, gently grasping it into his own. His other one encircled her waist. "It's called a slow dance or if we want to get technical, a waltz."

Once Yor became acutely aware where Loid's hands were positioned, her face turned vermillion with the rush of blood. Why did she feel so light headed?

"You with me, Yor?" she snapped out of her internal panic at Loid's words and nodded vehemently.

Loid smiled and directed Yor's hand towards his shoulder. "Alright, typically the waltz is a slow dance and has 6 steps that form the shape of a box with your feet. Our feet are apart in line with our hips. First, we move with our left foot a step forward."

Yor's lips wobbled nervously. "I-I don't know if I can do this!" they were so close! Was this appropriate for formal dances?

Loid smiled calmly. "Trust me, I know you can do this. Follow my lead." Twilight had already said his goodbye's to his feet in case Yor got too nervous.

Steeling her resolve, Yor gripped Loid's hand tighter and followed suit, taking a step back.

"Now, forward with the other foot." Once they were standing in line again, Loid placed his feet together and moved a step back with his right foot.

Yor followed suit, her movements slightly wobbly and her death grip on Loid's hands ground his bones together painfully. Loid exhaled, "Okay, move your left foot back so its parallel to your right one, like me." Loid did the motions and Yor followed.

"Now place your right foot next to your left foot to end the "box"." This time, they were in sync as their feet mirrored each-other. "Good job Yor! I told you, you can do this."

At his praise, Yor beamed happily. "Thank you Loid, you're a great teacher!"

Loid felt Yor's death grip on his hands relax, thankfully saving his bones from getting crushed to dust. "Now, let's try moving a bit faster in circular motions instead of the box pattern. It's the same principle, just a smoother movement. Ready?"

Sea blue locked gazes with ruby red, and Loid suddenly felt uncomfortably warm under his collar. When Yor nodded, now straightening her back and appearing more confident, Loid took the lead. "1, 2, 3… turn, 1, 2, 3… turn." Each time they moved in a semi-circle, Yor giggled, a sound capable of ending all wars this world had to face, a sound that seemed to loosen the iron vice Twilight's heart had been locked in ever since he shed his birth name and identity for the sake of world peace.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Twilight liked to imagine a world where Westalis and Ostania weren't in conflict, where political leaders and diplomats would achieve what weapons and intimidation did instead, a world where children didn't have to grow up too fast and parents didn't have to bury their young returning in caskets from the war front.

Sometimes, Twilight liked to imagine what it would've been like had he met Yor, Anya and Bond earlier, under different circumstances, with his own identity, in a peaceful time with a peaceful job.

Loid's internal musings got interrupted by Yor's laughter and her smooth but firm motions, as if she was leading him in this dance this time. He allowed himself to relax and follow her lead, eliciting a genuine smile on his tired face.

It felt like their feet were weightless, steps landing on clouds and bodies moving in a rhythm unknown yet familiar all the same.

The occasional laughter was the only sound that disturbed the silence, not even Bond dared make a noise least he disturbed the odd trance his owners found themselves in. He sighed deeply, enjoying the quiet comfort of his home.

They had practiced hugging and holding hands, somehow all the novelty of coming into this close, prolonged physical contact had worn off, shedding its nervous exterior to give way to something much more welcoming.

Comfort.

Familiarity.

The couple practiced like this until the clock struck eleven, Bond's soft barking interrupting the little bubble the Forgers found themselves trapped in.

Not that they seemed ready to leave the world that bewitched them with its spell, a spell so cruel to promise a fading hope of a possible future.

A future Twilight wasn't sure could exist.

Not in this life.

Yor stopped and glanced at the clock in shock, "Oh, it's already so late." she yawned as if on cue, "All this dancing must've made me tired, I can't believe we had been dancing so for long. I'm sorry Loid, you must be exhausted!"

Loid shook his head, smiling down at Yor. "Not at all, I guess time really flies when you're in good company."

The couple smiled at each-other, still in a dancing stance until Bond once again captured their attention by his wagging tail, which struck their legs.

Loid chuckled, glancing at their joined hands and slowly releasing Yor's, their fingers lingering at their tips before parting ways, mirroring the closeness their hearts seemed to yearn for.

Yor placed her hand on her beating heart, a smile so serene Loid genuinely believed it could bring upon world peace. At least, it brought peace to his heart. She bowed her head in gratitude. "Thank you Loid, I think I feel confident enough to show up to the party. I don't have anything to fear with you by my side."

Loid didn't know what affected him more; her words or the sincerity in her eyes, which didn't waver from his.

He took a breath, "Of course Yor, you're much better at dancing than in the beginning, you learn fast. The party will be a success, there's no doubt in my mind." Loid added it as an afterthought. "I'm sure Camila won't have anything to say anymore after she sees our stunning performance."

Yor laughed and it was the sweet lullaby Loid fell asleep to that evening.

Bonus:

Camilla's disgruntled countenance was not lost on her boyfriend. "Um, dear, why don't we dance too-"

"Ugh! This is just- how can Yor dance?! She's always such a klutz at work! Look at them!" Camila took another larger sip of red wine, Sharon smirking beside her.

"They sure look radiant, don't they." Sharon's normal disinterest seemed piqued, reverently taking a sip from her drink as her eyes stayed on the Forgers.

Millie seemed as bubbly as ever, a contributing factor to the half empty wine glass in her hand. "Mhm, Yor sure has a handsome husband and she's really rocking that dress! When will she introduce me to that brother of hers…" she nudged Camilla's shoulder, who stormed off, with Dominic running after her.

The dance floor was filled with many dancing couples, but it seemed like the dim lights only focused on one.

Mr. and Mrs. Forger not only took to the dance floor, they took the gazes of each person in the room with them, their elegant aura and imposing presence commanding the attention of each individual.

Yor's lashes lifted. The blood red on her lips made her eyes seem like twinkling rubies, framed by charcoal tresses of hair that complimented the razor-sharp earrings and hair ornament she wore, a golden rose catching the light.

Loid didn't know where to look, but he didn't need to, his gaze simply held captive by her own. Her heart gave a jolt as she stared into his sea blue eyes, which were filled with reassuring warmth.

Holding her gaze, Loid drew her into the waltz, using the momentum of the first turn to bring her closer to him. Soon they were lost in the midst of the dancers, circling with the lazy grace of a swallow's flight.

Entangled only in each-other's presence, the world around them was lost, the buzz of the party and the whispers of people a mere white noise.

Thanks for reading!

*For those who hadn't read it, in my other fic "The Talk" Twilight goes to visit Yor's boss and teaches him a lesson bc Yor got hurt at work without medical attention (it was actually during her job as Thorn Princess but Yor had to make up an excuse).

P.S. For those who asked, everything I upload here you can also find on my ao3 page under "ScarletRedfox" (check my profile for my tumblr!) :)