Flash Fiction Friday 179: Dance Dance Revolution. Word count: 1000
It was a rare occasion that all five boys were even dirtside, let alone off work, but sometimes their Grandma and their Godmother conspired to ensure rescues were covered so that certain milestones could be marked as normally as possible for a bunch of obscenely rich and hypercompetitive men.
This was once such occasion. International Rescue had been officially stood down for three whole days. Scott had balked at the length of time, but John and Virgil had both pointed out that this event was likely to lead to the biggest hangover they had ever had since operations started. When worded like that their eldest brother had acquiesced eventually.
The Tracy men looked good in suits. As the five had entered the club there had been a lull, an appreciative murmur before the DJ got the music going again. They may have looked good, but none of them actually liked wearing formalwear, and it wasn't long before the youngest two had shed jackets and loosened ties, leaving them with older brothers while they hit the dance floor.
Scott groaned and downed his shot followed by half his bottle of beer. John's eyebrow rose, but he said nothing as they turned to watch the teenies bopping with the crowd. Both shuddered as they watched and both drank and reordered.
Watching Gordon and Alan dance was not something that could be contemplated sober.
Virgil snorted in amusement at all four of his brothers, content to prop the bar up for now and let the pulsing music ease his aching muscles. He might be known for his classical and jazz music, but he appreciated a good beat more than anything.
At some point Alan and Gordon had rushed to the bar, downed something and somehow succeeded in dragging Scott and Kayo onto the floor with them. Virgil wasn't quite sure when their sister had arrived but as usual one minute she wasn't there, the next she was.
It was a long, long night, and by the time the six of them made it back to the hotel everyone was at least slightly sozzled (Alan, Kayo and John), drunk (Virgil) or had more alcohol than blood in their system (Scott and Gordon – they weren't dubbed Military Bros for nothing).
Nine the next morning found Gordon and Scott up and eating breakfast, secure in the knowledge that other brothers were unlikely to be seen this side of noon. And it was this knowledge that Gordon was counting on.
They had both swum laps that morning, Scott forsaking his normal run on the insistence of his Scooter Sense. He wasn't sure what had triggered it, but as the two munched happily on Eggs Benedict and sipped pineapple juice, Scott reflected that it wasn't his usual 'OH NO!' Scooter Sense, more like his rarely needed 'someone needs a chat' Sense. That it was Gordon was no surprise. After all, they were here today because of him.
'So, did you see me killing it out there on the dancefloor last night, Scotty?'
'Killing it was definitely the right words Gords.'
Gordon smiled sheepishly at the comment. He knew his dancing left lots to be desired, especially in certain areas. But he was a free spirit and his dancing definitely reflected that.
Scott chuckled at his brother's face. He nudged his shoulder and waited for whatever it was Gordon needed to talk to him about. He didn't have long to wait.
'Speaking of last night, Scott, I need to ask you a favour.'
'Sure, Fish. Whatever you need, I got you.'
As Gordon outlined what he wanted his brother to do, Scott's grin got wider and wider.
By the time everyone was up, and Kayo had returned from the local bakery with enough pastries to feed a small army and coffee as well, Scott and Gordon not only had a plan, they had a schedule.
Over the next few months their routine worked out quite well, given the unpredictable nature of rescues, but when the time came they were ready. There had been numerous looks from various household members, but Scott had given his work to Gordon and had stayed schtum, keeping his brother's secret.
And today was the day.
The first Saturday of December was always the date of the Tracy Industries Christmas Ball. Far enough away from the real festivities that it usually wasn't impacted by rescues, the charity function was a calendar highlight for both their employees and for those with money, year on year raising increasing amounts for the charities dear to the family's heart.
Only two people knew this event was going to be more special than usual.
Festivities well underway, one of the main attractions for younger attendees was the two vintage Dance Dance Revolution arcade games. Alan had practically claimed one as his own, but had watched Gordon take a turn – it was after all where Gordon had learnt all his dance moves from so he was naturally really good at it.
And then the lighting changed and Scott was asking people to clear the dance floor and even Alan had to know what was going on.
In the centre stood Gordon, a single light on him.
Murmurs from the rest of the family said only Scott knew what was going on, and as the music started up with one of his brother's favourite songs and everyone watched (dumbfounded) as Gordon began his usual routine Alan frowned.
But then the music morphed into one of Virgil's gentle classical pieces, and before she knew what had happened, Penny had been swept up into a waltz. The hip-wiggling, all-elbow-dancing boy had somehow morphed into a superb dancer, and she almost literally melted into his embrace.
As the music ended and she looked into Gordon's eyes, Penny knew that this was it. Gordon had learnt to dance for her – she knew from bitter experience over their years together that he couldn't dance for toffee – and she stayed standing as he got down on one knee.