"I don't think we've met, my name's Tomlan."

Clary turned to look at him, her eyebrow raising when he still showed no sign of recognition. "It's me, you looby."

Tom stared at her. "Oh," he said finally. "Sorry, you look different."

Clary crossed her arms. "I should think so, it took forever to get ready."

"You look nice," Tom added hurriedly. "Not that you don't look nice usually, it's just that now you look nice in a different kind of way. Or different in a nice kind of way, if that makes sense."

The corner of Clary's mouth curled upwards. "Thank you." She smoothed her dark green skirt, enjoying the feeling of the soft, pretty cloth under her fingers. "Mya showed me how to put face paints on last week, and Mama helped me put my hair up."

"You didn't have to sneak out, then?"

"No, she let me come. Da gave in and helped convince her that I was close enough to sixteen to be allowed to come, so I didn't even need to pretend to cry. But I heard her saying to Da that she only let me come because I'd be difficult to find a husband for, and that they should start looking early." She sniffed in disdain. "It was like they were talking about fattening up a calf to sell at the meat market."

Tom hid a smile. "But you came anyway."

"Of course. I wanted to look pretty and go dancing."

Tom glanced over her shoulder. "There's a boy eyeing you up already."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Clary's mouth. "Really?"

"I wouldn't make something like that up. Save a dance for me later?"

"Alright." Clary grabbed onto Tom's arm as he turned to go. "Tom…what do I do? With him?"

Tom blinked at her. "You mean dancing? It's just like we practiced, you'll be fine."He started to look worried. "I don't have to explain about canoodling and those things, do I?"

Clary's face was bright red. "No, you looby, I mean before the dancing."

"Well, I'll go, and then all you have to do is look at him and smile or sommat. And then if he's not cracknobbed he'll come over and ask you to dance. Unless you want me to just tell him that you want to dance with him?"

"No!" Clary saw his grin and realised he was teasing. "Go away. And um, thanks."

….

Clary was getting fed up. It wasn't that the dance itself was horrible –she liked feeling pretty, she liked seeing people she knew and being admired, and she liked feeling grown up. The Carpentry Guild's annual dance was exactly like she'd always hoped it would be, and she was enjoying being able to pause every so often and stare in amazement around the big hall with the decorations and the minstrels and the people talking and dancing. She especially liked the dancing, and the way she felt all nice inside whenever another boy asked her to dance with him. It was just the disappointment once she started dancing with them that she didn't like. Some of them couldn't help being boring or bad dancers or painfully awkward, of course, and she tried to be as nice and polite to them as she could. It was the other boys that had her patience disappearing quickly, the ones that put their hands where she didn't want them and looked down the front of her dress, and especially the ones that wanted her to drink more wine and 'go for a walk' outside with them.

"Would you like to dance?"

Clary turned around and saw another boy behind her. He didn't look like he was going to be horrible, and she couldn't help but notice that he was handsome and had a nice smile. Perhaps he'll be a better dance partner, she thought, and she stepped forward and smiled at him.

…

Tomlan was having a drink with Master Wright when he glanced across the dance floor and saw Clary dancing. He frowned as the boy she was with pulled her closer and slid his hand around her back and down much lower than what was polite. Clary scowled too and pushed the boy further away again, settling his hand on her waist where it was supposed to be.

Her father chuckled quietly. "That's my girl."

Tom grinned at him. "She looks after herself well." He looked around to make sure Mistress Wright was nowhere in sight, and said quietly, "I think she'll make a good Dog."

Clary's father smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I said to keep your hands off me!" That voice and the irritation in it was far too familiar, and Tom and Master Wright hurriedly looked back towards Clary just in time to see her bring her knee up between her dance partner's legs. The boy doubled over in pain, and Clary turned on her heel and stormed out.

"That gixie's a disgrace. People are staring." Clary's mother had come up behind them. "I don't know what's wrong with her, Rosalind's never caused trouble like this. She's been making a wonderful impression on Mistress Gilpin and her son all evening."

"Our Clary's a good gixie. You can't compare them, love." He lowered his voice. "This lad got what he deserved, and you've said yourself that Gilpin lad would have trouble saying boo to a goose if his mother didn't push him into it."

Tom's eyebrows rose. He'd heard more or less the same thing from Clary about the boy her mother wanted Rosalind to marry, although he'd thought at the time that 'he's got less personality than the pattens he makes' was an exaggeration.

"She's too young, we shouldn't have let her come. Alfie, would you walk her to your sister's? She can stay with Berkeley and we'll get them both in the morning."

Tom winced. Clary would be furious for weeks if she was sent home early from the dance, no matter whether or not she'd stormed out first. "Let me go after her instead," he suggested, and headed for the door before her mother could object.

…..

Tom tapped cautiously on the privy door. "Clary?"

She sighed. "I'm up here."

Tom turned and caught sight of a flash of dark green through the banisters, and climbed up the stairs to sit beside her. "Your da and I were both impressed," he told her.

"And Mother?"

"Not so much. But you did the right thing." Clary snorted. "I'm serious, I saw what he was doing. It was obvious you didn't like it, and if you let him keep doing it anyway I'd have had to come over and deal with him myself. Nobody's going to treat you like that and get away with it."

Clary smiled, warmed by the thought of Tom looking out for her just like he would Leena, and rested her head against his shoulder. "I hate boys."

"Do I count?"

"No."

Tom smiled. "You know, you said you'd save a dance for me."

"I'm not in the mood for dancing anymore."

"But you promised. Close enough to it anyway."

"And then I stormed out in a huff. I can't go back in now."

"How about we sit out here for a while longer so you can pretend you've sulked, and then we'll go in and have a dance?"

Clary had to purse her lips in an effort to stop herself from smiling; it seemed that Tomlan knew her far too well. "I suppose so," she relented, and a small smile escaped.

….

Dancing with Tom was different to dancing with the other boys. She felt relaxed, being able to talk easily with him instead of having to make polite conversation. He kept his hands exactly where they were supposed to be, and Clary felt a rush of gratefulness and affection for him. She couldn't help but wish that all of the other boys were more like Tomlan, or that she'd started dancing with him sooner.

"I like dancing with you," she told him without thinking. She'd danced with boys that evening who were better dancers than Tom, but with all the hours she'd spent practicing with him and Leena in their kitchen she was comfortable and didn't even mind if he stepped on her foot every so often.

"I like dancing with you too," he replied, smiling. The music ended, but neither of them moved away. "Will you stay for another dance?"

Clary nodded, and then blushed when the music started up again, much slower this time. She paused, certain that Tom would decide he'd rather have a slow dance with a pretty gixie his own age. Tom didn't seem to think anything of it though; he stood a little closer to her and held her close as they started to dance again. Clary sneakily glanced around the room and noticed that a lot of the other gixies were resting their heads contentedly against their cove's shoulder or chest. She couldn't help but think that Tom's chest looked comfortable and inviting, but she wouldn't rest her head against him – that was what sweethearts did, after all. A thought crept into her head of her and Tom as sweethearts and she felt her face flush, thankful that the room was dark enough to hide it. The more that Clary tried to think of something else, the more the thought stuck in her head, and she was even more surprised to realise that she didn't dislike it. And she was certain it was just the dancing, but all of a sudden she felt all hot and flustered.

The dance changed into another fast one, the last one of the evening, and Tom grinned down at Clary and spun her around. She had just enough time to admire the sparkle in his bright blue eyes before she remembered that she needed to concentrate on her feet and avoiding the other dancers.

The dance ended and she held on to him for a moment, laughing and gasping for air at the same time. "That was fun," she said, unable to keep the wide smile off her face. "All of it. I didn't even have to put up with Mother trying to marry me off."

Tom grinned back at her. "You'll be back next year, then?"

"Of course. I couldn't miss it now that I know what it's like. I wish I didn't have to wait a whole 'nother year."

Tom chuckled. "It'll come soon enough. Besides, you've got more to look forward to afore then, like starting your Dog training."

Clary frowned. "I'll still be able to come to this next year if I'm training to be a Dog, won't I?"

"Of course, Clary. Your da's in the Carpenter's Guild, and I'd bring you with me if your mother said no."

Clary smiled slightly, relieved, and was caught by surprise when Tom bent to quickly kiss her cheek. "I'd best let you find your parents and go home," he told her. "Goodnight, Clary."

Clary stared after him as he walked away and couldn't help but think that she wouldn't hate boys anywhere near so much (or even at all) if Tom counted as one of them. She was glad when her parents found her before she needed to move; she was finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the odd fluttery feeling in her stomach and the tingly feeling on her cheek where Tom's lips had been.`

….

Thanks to ubiquitous_girl for reading this over for me and coming up with the chapter name! You don't want to know what monstrosity I'd called it before. :P

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