Author's Note: I tried to keep this a drabble, but it just got away from me, so now we have a oneshot. Hope you all enjoy.

Hugs and Kisses

Star

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DANCE:

He watched as she danced across the floor of the diner along with a multitude of other faceless, nameless patrons. He really could care less about all the others. He only had eyes for one of the ladies on the dance floor.

The band consisted of drums, guitar, and flute. The music was something upbeat and lively. Something that was meant to make you want to get up and move.

He sat at the bar, nursing his drink, while watching as Cleo and Majic allowed the rhythm and feel of the melody to carry their bodies around the floor. He never was one for dancing. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the music or the dance; it was that, while dancing, you let go of something inside of you. Some small ounce of control. And for a moment, you allowed something else to take you over and dictate your next motion.

He didn't like to feel out of control. Even if it was just a small amount of control he let slip. You never knew what could be coming next, or who could be coming at you. After struggling for years after he first left the tower--being ambushed by bandits who thought a young boy traveling alone would be an easy target, or being cheated by various men who figured that he would not know up from down--he quickly learned that if one wants to survive, he must maintain constant vigilance. To let down your guard is to leave yourself vulnerable, and he was not one to allow himself to be vulnerable. Not anymore.

So he sat to the side and kept guard while Cleo and Majic were taken away. He supposed he felt a slight bit of envy. After everything they had been through, they still had an innocence and naivety about them.

He allowed himself a moment to mourn the loss of his own innocence. It had been taken away with the betrayal of the Tower and the loss of Azale.

He dispelled the troubling thoughts from his head. There was nothing he could do about it now, and so much time had already passed. If he knew anything, it was that time will numb the pain, even if it doesn't erase it completely.

As the band changed to the next song, another upbeat jig that made the crowd laugh and cheer and begin yet another dance, he returned his attention to Cleo.

The light from the multitude of candles flickered across her visage, casting shadows, and gave the illusion that her skin was glowing. She swayed and swirled, twisted and turned, all the while moving in time to the music. He watched as she swapped one partner for another, as the dance dictated, and found himself longing to join her. He glowered at the men who were able to hold her by the hand, or waist in some instances, and resented that he could not do the same.

It wasn't that he thought she would turn him away; from the way she would act around him sometimes, he was sure she felt something for him. It was more that he wasn't sure of himself. She deserved someone who would not be afraid to let himself go around her. Someone with whom she could dance.

His head bent and he sighed.

Signaling to the bartender that he was done, he rose and made his way to the stairs that led to his room. He was sure they would be safe down here with all of these people, and if something should happen, he would only be a holler away.

Entering his room, he'd just begun to remove his gloves and vest, preparing for bed, when he heard a knock at his door. A moment later the door swung open to reveal Cleo.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked. "This is my room--incase you'd forgotten."

"I was just wondering what you were up to. You left the party so suddenly, and you didn't even dance once."

He gave her an odd look, wondering why she sounded so concerned.

"I don't dance," he replied.

She cocked her head to the side and asked him, "Why don't you dance?"

"It's just not something I do." He hoped that they could just leave it at that, but, as it always is with Cleo, she could never just leave things alone. She always had to put her nose into things that she shouldn't bother with.

"Why don't you do it?"

"I just don't."

"Do you not know how?"

"No, I know how."

"I bet you don't, and that's why you won't dance. If you don't know how, you could just ask someone to teach you, and then you wouldn't have to sit off to the side and watch everyone else like some creepy, stalkery guy."

Now he was getting frustrated. Why couldn't she just leave him alone? Why couldn't she just go back to the party and leave him to his own devices?

Just as he was about to say as much to her, she took his hands in hers and lead one to her waist and held the other with her hand. He was too stunned by the sudden contact to do much more than stare at her blankly. She looked up at him after she was satisfied that his hands were positioned just right and smiled.

"Don't worry. I'll teach you." She said it like it so simple, and he was disinclined to turn her down. He didn't sense anyone around, so maybe he could let himself go, just for a moment, and humor Cleo.

The soft melody from the band's latest song drifted up to the room, and he swayed slowly per Cleo's instructions. She was not a good teacher, but he knew how to dance and allowed her to think that it was by her guidance that they moved so flawlessly.

He gazed at Cleo, who was looking at their feet in concentration, and let a small smile grace his features.

He supposed he could let himself go every once in a while, if only for her.